“Môn’ark can’t be serious. He can’t do this,” Jonathon uttered.
“He can and he will. The Council and Leceth have already voted on it. You have twelve hours, Jonathon, and I suggest you hand over the Phoenix,” as she spoke, he manoeuvred himself directly in front of her so her exit was blocked. She tried to walk around him but he stopped her again.
“What is this? The Council cannot be serious? This could lead to war. I will take this to the Arbitrators if anyone dies.”
“Jonathon, you must understand that for years the Council has believed that you do not take them seriously. They have reached the point where they have to, as you would say, put their money where their mouth is. This is not my decision. It would be simpler for you if you met our demands,” she again attempted to pass Jonathon but he intercepted. Her guards moved towards her, suspecting that she might be under attack but on seeing them advance, she waved her arms and ushered them away.
“Isobel, you must go to the Council and convince them to stop this madness.”
“It is too late for that. They will not change their mind unless you hand over the boy. And in fact even if they were inclined to change their mind, I’m not sure that I am inclined to do anything.” Once again, after finishing her sentence, she stepped towards the door.
Enraged by a combination of lack of sleep, the recent meeting and her comments, Jonathon grabbed her arm and pulled her around so they were face to face. “What are you playing at, Isobel? You know that this is wrong. The Jakyll is no joke. The Council knows that if somebody, a member of the public, is hurt or killed, as I fear will be the case and is obviously intended, we will be forced to retaliate. This will simply escalate out of control. I know you don’t want that, you know that I don’t want that. Please, you have to try and stop this,” Jonathon’s voice was filled with despair, he was begging now.
“Release me, Jonathon. For your information, I did try to stop this before it went to a vote, but I failed and the motion was passed. And by opposing this I have lost a lot of influence on the Council. I am not sure I can do much more. And we have a tape that shows the boy killing our men, we have evidence. If you really want my opinion, play tough. Leceth is a coward. Underneath his words and actions he is afraid of the Order. He will buckle before there is a war. The Council does not really want a confrontation; all they want is your respect, which I think you should give them. And about the Jakyll, I suggest that you get to him before he gets to the public,” Isobel’s voice was soft and seemed to comfort Jonathon for now.
“Thank you. I know that you risk a lot by telling me this. I trust you, Isobel, and I hope you trust me.”
“I do, my friend. But it is down to you to avert this war. You have to stop the Jakyll.”
“Do you know where they plan to release it?”
“I do not; all I know is that it will be somewhere very open; a tourist attraction,” Isobel this time walked uninhibited towards the door as she spoke. Turning to watch her leave, Jonathon gave her a smile of thanks and admiration.
…
- Chapter Fourteen -
Public Places
The doors opened and the four of them, Kristian, Jean, Sam and Rachel, walked out. The long corridor had changed so much in just a few short hours. Eight hours ago it had been empty and silent and now it was packed, filled with people busily rushing about. The hustle and bustle of the workplace was in full swing, people hurrying from office to office, noise filled the air. None of them had seen the Order as hectic before, it was clear that something significant had happened during the night-time meeting with the Council’s envoy but what that was, for the moment, was unclear to them.
Heading down the corridor towards Jonathon’s office the group passed small clumps of workers; overhearing their conversations saturated with anxious tones they noticed a few repeated words: ‘Môn’ark’, ‘Jakyll’, ‘… which public places?’ and ‘deaths’. Their interests were piqued, and with concern rising, they turned to one another, “What do you think’s happened? What’s a Jakyll?” queried Sam, a confused look crossing his face.
“It has to be something to do with the meeting last night, the one about Kristian, I wonder what trouble you’ve caused?!” said Jean, attempting to be light-hearted but coming across as blunt as ever. Jean’s words spun around Kristian’s head, he knew what Jean had said to be true but he did not want to hear it.
“Hey! Not fair Jean!” snapped Rachel to which he merely shrugged. As the four continued down the corridor closing in on Jonathon’s office, it just seemed to get busier and busier with frantic staff everywhere. Soon the walkway was too packed for the four of them to walk side by side so instead they opted for a single-file march, lead by a boisterous Sam, with Jean, Rachel and Kristian following.
With a few dodges and sneaky elbows, the group finally stumbled up to the doors to the office which were slightly ajar. Halting outside and peeking through they could spy a throng of people rushing around to Jonathon’s muffled orders. They had to jump out of the way a couple of times as people darted in and out of the room.
Jonathon’s strained voice just carried over the general drone of people’s voices, it was hard to distinguish any one conversation. Kristian tried to concentrate on Jonathon, his barks being slightly easier to make out. “Good. Michael, good. Keep an eye out. Oh Joe, I need you to go to the Tate Modern. I have Michael at the British Museum and the other museums are now covered too. Go now… Sally, do you have the papers from Andrew yet?” It was not clear if anyone was responding to him, not to Kristian anyway.
Jonathon kept blasting out his orders, he was keen to seize the moment, he had less than six hours to locate the Jakyll and deploy adequate measures to contain him. He had positioned his staff in all the major landmarks in London, every hotspot he had covered. He knew that he was spreading his resources at central office thinly, but he had no other option; locating the beast was his top priority now. He had sent out messages to Yi-Mao and Brendan and was hoping that they would receive them in time and maybe head back early. He knew that the chances of that were slim; they were both on important missions and in remote monasteries in the Far East.
As he was about to tell a group of his staff to head to Parliament Square his eyes fell upon the four young faces in the doorway. He instantly fell silent, as did everyone in the room when they realised that Jonathon’s gaze had fallen heavily upon Kristian. Jonathon knew that he couldn’t put this off, and he didn’t have the time he felt he owed the young man.
“Clear the room,” Jonathon shouted, breaking the silence like a hammer shattering ice. Within ten seconds, the room had emptied and he was ushering Kristian inside. The other three looked as though they were about to back away but Kristian turned to them and made it clear that he wanted them to follow him.
“Well, I suppose you are wondering what is going on here?” Jonathon said as he closed the door.
“Yes, we heard some talk in the corridor and we’re slightly confused,” said Jean as he sat on Jonathon’s desk.
“Not to mention worried,” chipped in Sam. “What’s the Jakyll?”
They all waited in anticipation for what he was about to say.
“I apologise but this will have to be quick, okay? I don’t have much time to explain. Now, where to start? We have a problem.” He grimaced slightly and took his seat at his desk. “The Council have reacted badly to the ‘situation’ regarding Kristian’s actions in Berlin, and are unwilling to compromise on their demands, therefore they have threatened to set this creature of which you speak, the Jakyll, loose onto the general population of London, a tyrannical move and a completely disproportionate response,” he coughed as he finished his sentence.
“Who?… What?… Where?” a barrage of unfinished questions left Rachel’s mouth.
“It’s a creature which we have not directly come across before. The Jakyll has never been used as a weapon before, never released to kill civilians like this. We only have a matter of hours before the pro
posed attack begins and we don’t know where.”
“But what is it, this Jakyll?” Rachel demanded, her voice quivering, evidently afraid.
Jonathon sighed as he conjured up the image of the beast in his head; he had never come across it himself but had read of the evil and had seen countless pictures and drawings.
“The Jakyll is a primordial evil, it is closely related to the Phoenix,” as he spoke he looked at Kristian. “It is an incorporeal life form which acts like a parasite; taking control of its host, it transforms the shell into a ruthless killing machine.”
The room was filled with gasps and Rachel squeaked as she brought her hand to her mouth.
“The Jakyll is a human-hosted monster, taking control of its host and rapidly changing its physical form using a catalyst which is always water. There is only ever one Jakyll and it is one of the most dangerous incorporeal life forms on record. The sheer ease of locating a source for catalysing the change obviously makes this all the more problematic for us, it’s so easy. A host will either die of dehydration or let the evil take over. If and when a host dies, the Jakyll merely finds another one,” Jonathon looked around him to see four blank faces.
“I take it they are going to release the monster form, not just a host?” Sam said to no one directly.
“How can the Council do this? Surely it breaks the Treaty?” Jean shouted, standing up and holding up his arms in disbelief.
“They are responding to our refusal to, err, hand Kristian over to them and I’m afraid we can do nothing more than try to stop it. I will, as a minimum, lodge a formal complaint with the Arbitrators if they carry out their plan,” said Jonathon, sounding slightly bureaucratic.
Kristian felt himself flush bright red and couldn’t face looking at anyone. The Council wanted him; and Jonathon had refused.
“What is the creature like?” Sam asked.
“Well, it could be described as being very similar to a werewolf although it is different in that it forms an exoskeleton around the host; it modifies the body to have elongated scythe-like claws and teeth which release a deadly venom, for which, I’m afraid, we know of no antidote. From our understanding it is also impervious to almost all types of magic and conventional weapons.”
As Jonathon finished his description a new sense of urgency rushed through him with the realisation of how little time remained in which to prevent the attack.
“Look, I don’t have much time and I need to focus all my energy on this at the moment. I don’t want any of you being involved in this, especially you, Kristian. That’s exactly what the Council will want. I want you to continue with your work on Oliver’s death and try to find some way of clearing Kristian’s name. Do this in-house, stay in the building. If I do need you, I will let you know,” he opened the door and patted each of them on the back as they exited. They all wanted to stay, they had more questions and they wanted to help but they knew that Jonathon was doing his best, and that he had everyone else in the building fully committed to the problem.
When Kristian reached the door he paused and, making sure that the others were well ahead of him, he grabbed the doorknob slamming it shut, much to Jonathon’s shock.
“Kristian, do not argue with my decision,” his hand reached for the knob but it was beaten by Kristian’s.
“This is because of me, sir. The Council is punishing the Order because of what I did. Let me help.”
Jonathon knew that Kristian was probably the only other person in the building besides the members of the Trinity who could take on the Jakyll but he did not want to play into the Council’s hands. He could not send him out to face the wrath, the power and evil of the Jakyll.
“The Council demanded that we hand you over and we refused. Not because we wanted to get one over on them but because we know that you are innocent in this. This is exactly what Leceth wants. I will not have you fighting that thing.”
“But if I don’t fight it, who will? Somebody will have to take it down and I know I’m not the best in the Order but my Phoenix is strong. Jonathon, I don’t regret what I did in Berlin. Perhaps you should hand me over. Surely the safety of the public is more important than me.”
“The offer is noble, but you are just as innocent as is everyone out there. We will not bow to pressure. I will let you help me locate the monster but you must stay out of the fight.” As Jonathon said these words, Kristian removed his hand from the door handle and Jonathon pulled open the door. Kristian began to walk away and after a few steps, Jonathon spoke, “What you did in Berlin was you acting on instinct, and that is what we taught you. You did nothing wrong.”
Kristian smiled, it was nice to hear some reassuring words, especially from the head of the Order. Turning his back, he knew that he still wanted to be the one to fight the Jakyll, he just didn’t know how to convince Jonathon to let him.
Rachel was waiting just down the corridor so Kristian headed straight towards her.
“Are you okay?” Rachel asked.
“Of course, I just want to help. I want to make things right!” Kristian replied.
“Like Jonathon said, you getting involved in the fight is exactly what the Council wants. You can’t go up against this Jakyll. You just can’t,” Rachel pleaded, her tone empathetic.
Kristian ignored Rachel’s words of concern. “Damn, I need to do something. I just can’t sit around in this building and hide.”
“For the moment that’s probably all you can do, that and some research. I’ve never heard of the Jakyll, but we should at least check out the Great Library. Maybe the origins of this creature inspired other folklore, like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.” As Rachel finished talking a strange expression crossed Kristian’s face.
“What did you just say?” Kristian asked.
“What, that we should do some research?” Rachel replied.
“No. Mr Hyde…” Before Kristian could continue talking a sudden and unbidden distant memory drifted into his mind, the image of a man dressed in strange clothes was there gesturing to him. Then it hit him, eyes glazing over as the answer revealed itself.
Darting back and bursting into the Director’s office, Kristian shouted, “Jonathon, I know! I know where the Jakyll will be!”
…
The lift doors opened and Kristian stepped out; as he did the lights in the room clicked on. The room was a long corridor with twelve glass cabinets spanning the length of it. He had not been here for more than two years and at the prospect of what lay within he was filled with anticipation. Following him as he made a slow pace down the corridor was Jonathon who had a strange, proud look about him.
No more than ten metres down the corridor, Kristian stopped and stared into one of the cabinets. It suddenly burst into green light, which reflected in his eyes.
It wasn’t long before Jonathon was standing behind him, staring into the light.
“How long are you going to stare at it?”
Jonathon placed a hand on his shoulder. Kristian tilted his head to look at the suit, which lay beyond the glass.
“You know, the last time I wore that and used that blade I was with Oliver on our first mission. So much has changed since then,” Kristian’s voice was not sad, just reminiscent. He gazed down at the arms of the suit. The beautiful dark blue, of distinctly Chinese design, had a strange emblem embroidered on each cuff. On the right arm was the Phoenix emblem, a sharp silver outline of an impressive majestic bird, the Phoenix rising from the ashes. On the left cuff, the symbol of Saranthea, his Phoenix. Its shape was similar to a hash symbol on a keyboard but the left vertical stripe was longer and the two horizontal lines came to a point on the right-hand side with a semicircle intersecting the lower half of the vertical line.
Both emblems were also engraved onto the handle of the blade and the sheath. “I know I was never really a fan of all this but seeing my old uniform and sword, it fills me with awe. In my head I had hoped that I wouldn’t have to ever put it on again, not because of bad memories but because I like ho
w it fits. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to turn my back on you again once I put that suit on a further time. Well, that is, if it still fits!” he sniggered.
“Well, Kristian, time is nearly up. Put it on. I shall meet you downstairs.”
Jonathon walked off towards the elevator as Kristian glared after him. When Jonathon entered the lift, Kristian paused and waited for the doors to close before he returned his attention back to the glass cabinet. Staring at the uniform Kristian felt a sense of eagerness to put it on; his eyes darted to the Phoenix Blade and his emotions turned to dread. The sword was beautiful in design and as his eyes took in all its glory he recounted in his mind the mythology of the Phoenix Blades. The story of how the swords were forged by a group of Water-Women played out, he struggled for a few seconds before uttering the group’s name.
“The Sisters of the Sea,” he whispered.
This, the Phoenixes’ most revered tale of their origins, was first told to Kristian by Yi-Mao early in his training. The story of how twelve blades had been forged and gifted to the twelve Phoenixes, and of the powerful magic used in the deepest depths of the ocean. Kristian instantly remembered how he had been told that the blades were indestructible and each irrevocably bonded to their respective Phoenix and therefore the hosts.
At that moment, in Kristian’s mind, Yi-Mao’s voice from old rang out.
They shall not bend,
They shall not break,
They shall never yield.
Ready to be summoned,
By the Phoenix in the field.
In the two years that Kristian had been away from the Order he had never once felt the need or the desire to call for the blade; he didn’t want anything to enter his hideaway and shatter the illusion of his normal life. Feeling the pressure of time Kristian dared to see if he could use the summoning skills he had once mastered. He stretched out his right arm towards the cabinet; palm open, he closed his eyes and spoke the same words Yi-Mao had once spoken to him; he knew he didn’t need to, but it helped him focus.
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