Sanctuary (Order of the Ring Book 1)

by Phil Maxey

  He gave one to Sparrow who was now sitting upright. She wiped her face.

  Miss Toper looked at Justin, as if she was pondering something. “OK, we might as well do this while we can.”

  “Do what?” said Justin, looking at them both. Sparrow, smiled and nodded.

  “Come and kneel before me.”

  Justin did as he was asked.

  “Repeat these words.”

  “I, Justin Pendridge, do hereby swear by the blood of my ancestors and descendants to protect and uphold the members of the house of Pendragon, the Order of the Ring, and the nescients.”

  Justin looked confused by the last part.

  “Just repeat those words, I’ll explain after,” said Miss Toper. Justin copied what she had just said word for word, then she continued. “And that I will live by the code of my house, from now to my last breath.”

  He repeated what she said.

  “Now give me your hand—" he hesitated. “Actually, Sparrow, perhaps you could do this last part.”

  Sparrow looked surprised. “OK, Justin I will hold out my hand, you need to grasp it tight.”

  She closed her eyes, and started to quietly whisper to herself.

  Justin went to lean forwards to hear what she was saying, then there was a flash of light from between his hands and a burning sensation tore up his arm. “Owww!” He pulled back, shaking his hand. Turning it over, a small burn was in the centre of his hand, in the shape of a dragon. “You could have warned me!”

  Miss Toper smiled. “Stand, Justin of house Pendragon!”

  He resisted rubbing his still stinging hand, and got to his feet.

  “You are now a member of the Order of the Ring.”

  “Cool, like a knight?”

  Sparrow and Miss Toper laughed.

  “You have a long way to go to be a knight, young man,” said Miss Toper. “But you are now one of us officially. There would usually be a celebration afterwards, but unfortunately a hearty meal before you go with Sparrow and Jax to the Ambrose’s, is all I can offer.”

  * * * * *

  “I really prefer not to go this way, but needs must,” said Bartholomew, holding up a flaming torch in the confined tunnel.

  Eden scrunched her noise. “You sure these are not sewers?”

  “I thought you would be more used to bad smells with what you do.”

  “That’s a different smell, and anyway you get used to it after a while.”

  Their footsteps echoed around the circular walled Victorian tunnels. Lichen and moss grew between cracks and their torches reflected off puddles of putrid water lying scattered on the ground.

  “If memory serves me it’s not too far,” said Bartholomew. He looked pensive. “I haven’t had a chance my dear, to say—”

  “I’d prefer we didn’t talk about it.”

  He gave an unnoticeable nod as he trekked forward, until eventually they got to a rusting ladder that ascended into the shadows above their heads. “This will come out in the basement of the museum.”

  Eden swung the torch behind her. “Yer sure no one knows about this entrance to the museum.”

  “As sure as anyone can be in times like this.” He started to climb.

  Soon they were both emerging into a maze of large pipes and valves.

  “Nobody bothers with this part of the basement, it contains the old air conditioning system. It’s an antique itself which is why it wasn’t removed when they upgraded.”

  They squeezed between a large, red-painted, chipped pipe and into a dark plain-walled hallway.

  “I believe the museum is empty, but there might be a few that have come in. My office is on the second floor.”

  Soon they were walking quickly across a large reverberant hall, with Greek style pillars.

  As they got to the top of some equally wide stairs, a security guard appeared shining a torch in their eyes. “Mr. Dayton?”

  “Yes, yes, it’s me, please refrain from trying to blind me, John.”

  “Oh sorry, I thought this part of the museum was empty. He looked at his computer tablet. I’m not seeing that you entered the building?”

  “The systems are fluctuating, due to the electricity blackouts. We came in one of the rear entrances.”

  The guard looked at Eden. “Who’s this?”

  “She’s part of a reenactment we are getting together for after the holidays. I needed her to come in to try on some costumes.”

  The guard nodded. “Be careful with that axe!” He chuckled.

  Bartholomew went to walk away, when he stopped. “John. Have you seen or heard any suspicious behavior inside or around the museum of late?”

  The guard scrunched his face while he stroked his chin. “I haven’t, but Gary, said a few days ago there were some strange men, trying to gain access to the museum. They were told it’s closed, and they left. But apart from that—”

  “Any chance you have security footage of them?”

  “Umm, yeah, we should, it’s only been a few days so it wouldn’t have been blanked yet. Why are you asking?”

  “Lionel mentioned that there have been break-in’s in nearby buildings. If you could show us the footage I’ll pass on what I saw to him, when he’s back.”

  The guard nodded in approval. “Follow me.”

  Soon they were standing in a small office, watching a computer monitor screen. The snow was falling heavily in the video, but three figures, with hoods up were visible near the museums front gate.

  “It’s hard to see their faces,” said John. “Should I contact the police?”

  “Not for now. I’m sure they have too much on their hands with the storm anyway.”

  In the video, after a few moments the men turned and disappeared into the blizzard around them.

  “Could I get a print out of one of the better frames and could you email me the footage as well?”

  The guard agreed.

  Not long after, they were in Bartholomew’s office. “At least we know they never made into here,” he said, looking through his desk drawer.

  Looking at the pieces of paper which lay everywhere and the many books that laid open, Eden wasn’t sure she could tell if his office had been ransacked or not.

  “Ah ha!” he said, holding up a small ring-binder notebook. I have it. Tearing the page out, he put it in his pocket, and they left.

  CHAPTER 28

  The meal that Kat and Darren had was a strange concoction of baked beans, and tinned pies, but it was enough. Despite the situation, they found themselves laughing about their hacking exploits and after an hour, they were both feeling equally rested but tired. They both looked at the roaring fire not wanting to move.

  “You know that’s not normal, right?” said Darren. “This fire has been lit for most of the day and it’s not burnt down at all. Hopefully the gas company is not charging us for its constant use!”

  They both laughed.

  “I don’t think it’s a gas fire,” said Kat timidly.

  Darren sighed. “Neither do I.”

  She looked at the entrance door and the two other doors. “So, you up for a little exploring?”

  He looked hesitant.

  She smiled “You never know, we might find internet access.”

  “Or a dragon.”

  His words came out with such seriousness that she started giggling again. “We can’t stay locked in this room, we need to know what’s beyond those doors.”

  Darren knew she was right, even if he was happy to just stay where he was. “I do need the restroom,” he looked around him, “unless there’s a magical way to relieve yourself …”

  Again, she laughed. “OK, so left, or right?” She looked at the two arched doorways.

  “Umm, left.”

  She got up, walked across the stone floor, placed her hand on the cold black iron handle and turned it. The door creaked as she opened it. “Oh …”

  Darren was just about to ask what she could see as the light from the main room didn’t trav
el past the doorway, when torches in a corridor ahead of Kat lit up, revealing another four doors, three opposite each other, and one at the end facing her.

  She slowly stepped forward. “It’s a corridor, with more doors.”

  He got to his feet walking after her. “Hey, don’t go too far! It might be a maze!”

  She opened the first door she came too. It was a comfortable bedroom, with two single beds, shelves, and some cupboards. She turned and tried the door opposite, it was the same. “So, I guess we’re sleeping in these rooms then.”

  Opening the third room revealed a storage room with clothes, blankets and in the corner a toilet and sink. She closed the door.

  They both stood in front of the last door at the end of the corridor. Above it carved into the stone was the word. “Cave.”

  “Cave?” said Darren.

  She went to put her hand on the handle, when she realized this door had a lock for a key which she didn’t possess. She frowned, then tried to push her ring into the hole, but it was clearly for a key not a ring. “This one’s going to have to wait.”

  After using the toilet facilities, they both returned to the main room, and she opened the door on the right. A gust of wind hit them both in the face, and more torches ignited revealing a stone staircase which descended twelve or so steps to a deeper tunnel.

  Kat stepped forwards and immediately the scent of damp and earth filled her senses. “I think this leads to the outside.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The smell, the cool air, and it just feels like it does.”

  “Could—” he looked upwards. “They get in through here?”

  “Don’t know, but I don’t think so.” She wasn’t sure again, but her instincts had brought her this far. “We need to know where it leads.”

  She walked down the steps, while Darren watched from the top of the steps.

  “What you see?” he half-whispered, half-shouted after her.

  She got to the bottom, this time no torches ignited and only a rich darkness lay ahead of her. “Throw me down the torch, it’s on the table.”

  He did, and she turned it on. The walls around her in the tunnel were damp and ice cold. At the end, some twenty yards ahead of her, was another large door, with a stone arch above it. She approached and shone the touch on it. Above the impressive stone was carved the words. ‘Non praesidium’. She said them to herself under her breath, trying to understand what they could mean. No, something?

  A noise from behind, made her jump. She turned, it was Chip who was sniffing at the ground. Darren was with him. “Maybe we should go back,” he said.

  “If there’s another way out, we need to know.”

  This door had a much larger handle, which she had to use both hands to turn. As the door opened even cooler air than the tunnel she was in swept over her. She quickly pointed the torch through the gap.

  “More—” she was about to say ‘tunnels’ when she heard a scratching noise in the black ahead of her. She immediately pulled back and closed the door. “Yeah, let’s not go that way.”

  “What was it?”

  “I heard something out there, but I’m not going out there to find out what it was. I do think though that it leads to the street outside.” She turned around. “Let’s go back to the main room.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Sparrow, Eden, Jax, and Justin sat in one of Bartholomew’s expensive four-wheel drive cars waiting for the traffic lights to change. They were half-way to Kat’s Croydon home, but it had already taken them an hour trying to make it past abandoned vehicles and snow drifts.

  Justin had watched as desolate streets with boarded up stores and homes with only shadows beyond their windows slid by. Every now and again he would see a lone person struggling against the winds and he would breathe a sigh of relief knowing there were others still out there. But this part of London was intensely populated and the lack of people on the streets even in the winter weather was concerning to everyone in the car.

  Sparrow leaned forward. “Let’s see what’s on the radio,” she said, switching it on. Only white noise came from the speakers.

  “That’s strange, change the station,” said Eden.

  Sparrow ran through the digital stations, but nothing came back until a man’s stern voice faded in.

  “People are asking, is this weather a permanent fixture of the UK? Should British citizens, view their country as Greenlanders and Norwegians view theirs? In other news, the shelters around the country are overflowing, with calls for more permanent camps to be setup.”

  She changed the channel once again. The radio tuned to an older woman’s voice. “And when I looked in my back garden, there were these strange men with old style armour and swords, but they moved all funny like, like they were injured!” The voice changed to that of a man. “And that was Ethel from Lambeth. More strangeness on Talky London Radio after the break.”

  Sparrow sighed and turned it off. “I was hoping for some music.”

  “It would seem our enemies are not hiding themselves from the nescients,” said Jax.

  “Nescients?” asked Justin.

  “People that do not know of the Order of the Ring, or the world of magic and creatures.”

  “Oh …”

  “If the government calls out the army to patrol the streets it makes our job harder,” said Eden.

  “Has that happened before?”

  “A few times over the past centuries, but only once in the twentieth century,” said Sparrow.

  An hour later they had reached Croydon.

  “Arnold’s family home is in this street,” said Jax as they drove past the park entrance and into a typical suburban south London street, with two-storey 1930s houses lining both sides.

  Sparrow looked at the piece of paper in her hand. “Number 35, Travis Avenue.”

  As they drove slowly down the street, counting off the door numbers, the watery sun hung low on the horizon.

  “Lots of these houses are dark inside,” said Justin.

  “Yeah …” said Eden. He noticed she had one hand on the hilt of her sword.

  “There, the one with the red door,” said Sparrow, pointing to their right. “I’m not seeing any lights on.”

  Jax pulled the car to the curb, and let the engine idle. “So, what’s our plan, short of kidnapping both of them?”

  “What’s the chance they already know about all this?” said Justin.

  “Everyone who knows is in the register, and when we checked at the London sanctuary, they weren’t,” said Sparrow.

  “If it’s not already been taken, the priority is the ring.”

  Sparrow’s head flicked around to face Jax. “We have a duty to defend nescients, especially when they are linked to Order of the Ring affairs. And the granddaughter is one of us.”

  Jax frowned. “Let’s get this over with, so we can get back,” he said, putting his gloves on and getting out. Everyone else did the same, and walked up the snow laden pathway.

  Sparrow rang the doorbell, while Eden tried looking through the windows between a small gap in the curtains.

  “Cannae see anyone home.”

  “I’ll check around back,” said Justin.

  “I’ll go with him,” said Jax.

  Justin walked down the narrow path between the houses, and opened the gate to the back garden. Foot-thick snow covered where a lawn would have been. Moving to the large glass doors, he peered inside, but could only see shadows and gloom. Pulling on the handle, the door slid open. “Hello? Anyone home?” he shouted.

  “Miss Ambrose?” shouted Jax, pushing past Justin and walking into a dining room, then a kitchen.

  Justin followed, noticing how cold it was inside. He flicked the light switch but no lights came on. “Electricity must be down in the area.”

  He walked along the hallway and peered into the living room. There was just enough evening sunlight left, to see it was empty, save some cardboard boxes, and some old books lying torn on the pl
ush carpet. He opened the front door, letting the others in, while Jax went upstairs.

  “Nobody’s here, but there’s these old books in here—” He, Eden, and Sparrow moved into the living room.

  Sparrow bent down and picked one of the books up. Inscribed just inside it said. ‘To Kat, from Arnold, hope these and the others get you started!’ she stood back up. “Either the mother or her daughter really didn’t like these books or someone else was here before us.”

  Jax came back down the stairs. “No-one’s upstairs. Looks to me we were too late. Which means the dark forces now have two rings. Great.”

  “We don’t know that, Jax.”

  “Yeah we do.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Even though the bedroom Kat had chosen looked nice enough, she sat in the comfy chair in the main room, near the fire, reading through her grandfather’s journals. After Darren read a small excerpt she grew curious about the rest. She found over two hundred of them on shelves on the second floor before she stopped counting. She grabbed a selection, starting with the first few, then some from the middle period, then the last few.

  The first thing that surprised her was the first written date was twenty-fifth of August 1897. When her grandfather supposedly started his first journal. He was eighteen at the time, and had just gone through something called the Awakening. Which as far as she could tell was a kind of ceremony for people like himself. That would have made him over a hundred when he died. Knowing what she knew now, it didn’t seem surprising.

  There was also the mention of something called the Order of the Ring, and that Arnold was just the most recent in a long line of Ambrose's who had been part of the order. He was also a custodian of his ring but not one of the ordained, whatever either of those terms meant.

  After a few hours of reading about his adventures across the world, she fell asleep in the high-backed chair, and was dreaming peacefully until Darren woke her up.

  “Hey, there’s a noise coming from that room.”

  Her eyes resisted opening. “What noise, what room? What are you talking about.”