“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Penn. “Maybe the part where you took control of the organisation I’d built and used it for your own purposes! Don’t think I haven’t been able to see what you’ve been up to while I’ve been away.”
“You’ve built?” shot back Orfeo. “You inherited that organisation from your brothers only because of my help, if I’m not mistaken. Against all odds. It was me, not you, who influenced the lawyers in your favour. You’ve built nothing, other than your own ego!”
There was silence for a moment while the two men studied each other’s expressions.
“Anyway,” continued Orfeo, realising he had the upper hand for the moment. “The plan had to adapt after you failed to deliver the Peacekeepers!”
“Failed?” said Penn severely, tilting his head to the other side and portraying his inane smile. This was a game of chess between the two masters and he was enjoying it. “I think you’re remembering it all wrong. You set me up!”
“What’re you telling me?” Orfeo challenged. “You needed help? That’s most unlike you!”
Penn laughed. “Oh, you’re certainly on form this evening.” He paused. “Now, tell me, what are you looking for?”
Orfeo chuckled mockingly in return. He ignored Penn’s question. “Here you are not needing help again. Yet, you’re the one stuck in the mirror?”
“Stuck?” answered Penn. “Oh, I’m not stuck. And, yes, that reminds me. I wanted to thank you about the little gift you sent me.”
“Gift. What gift?”
Penn laughed, moving sideways across the mirror’s image. “The assassins you sent. It turned out they were exactly what I needed. I’m now free again.” He paused to let that sink in. “You see, that’s the trouble with sending someone else to do your own dirty work.”
“Perhaps I was trying to help you?” suggested Orfeo, with a slight tilt to his mouth. “Again!”
Penn smiled. “Well then, I know what to expect from you in future.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now?” said Orfeo through thin lips.
“Because you don’t know if you have everything you need to bring Index to life. And I know what you’re missing,” replied Penn, coolly.
Orfeo watched him, moving back and forth. It irritated him, but he could do nothing but wait.
“You see, while split across the realms, I’ve been able to witness many things and for longer than these intimate little moments you’ve been having with the mirrors.”
Orfeo hissed. Penn turned and looked him directly in the eyes and smiled. He knew he’d got under the man’s skin. How he loved to needle Orfeo.
“While it’s all God like and masterly in appearance, it hasn’t delivered what you’ve wanted, has it?”
“You think too much of yourself,” Orfeo replied, pulling his hand backwards away from the mirror. He’d had enough of this conversation. He was unable to release the hold though. Penn raised his gloved hand palm up in response, smiling. A black walking cane hung between his fingers, a dragon carved into the head in black stone. It glowed and emanated a sticky thread. He tugged gently backwards, pulling Orfeo’s hand back towards the mirror. Orfeo looked at his hand and then back to Penn, irritated.
“Don’t push me! I can turn you back into that dragon,” sneered Orfeo.
Orfeo regarded Penn with all the distain he could muster. There was a pregnant pause.
“Anyway, where was I,” Penn continued, breaking the silence “Oh yes. You see, I originally thought you were keeping an eye on things, overseeing your grand plan. Then…” he looked past Orfeo pointedly to the moonlight, “…it dawned on me that you were searching for someone.”
“And? What if I am?” said Orfeo, playing along to see if Penn would divulge anything he could provide to his troops. He reached out with his hand to another mirror to summon forces that could head to wherever Penn was. Penn though had noticed and shot out a tendril from the cane through the mirror and to Orfeo’s other hand.
Orfeo tugged slightly at the tendrils to try to free himself.
“Now, now,” said Penn, patronisingly.
“You broke our agreement,” accused Orfeo, continuing to wrestle himself free from Penn’s grip. “You were supposed to deliver the boy to me!”
“True, yes…” replied Penn, looking down at his cane for a moment wistfully. “I had to adapt though,” replaying Orfeo’s words on purpose. “He would have endangered our plan for the Peacekeepers.”
“You’re no different than I,” replied Orfeo, twisting his hands around in a circle so that Penn was pulled off balance momentarily. Penn had no choice but to let go of the hold he had on Orfeo’s right hand. In response, Orfeo reached across to the mirror next to him and pulled on its surface, joining the two.
The two men stared at each other for a moment.
“Let’s just agree that we are both passionate about our work,” replied Penn generously.
“So why did you come here?” challenged Orfeo.
“Oh, I want back what’s mine, nothing more,” replied Penn.
“And you want my agreement in return for…?” asked Orfeo.
“The boy,” replied Penn, simply.
“You’re willing to tell me where he is?” questioned Orfeo suspiciously.
“Better,” replied Penn. “I can show you how to set up a meeting with him.”
“Why?” asked Orfeo, suspiciously. “You want me out of your organisation in return for the boy?”
The surface of the mirror next to Orfeo started to bulge. Human shapes started to form, gradually pushing themselves free from the surface.
“Yes,” replied Penn, opening his hands to show that there was nothing more in them other than the cane. The dragon head was now dark and inert.
Human forms gathered behind Orfeo, covered in the reflective surface of the mirror. It created a strange, distorted, reflection of the surroundings of the castle chamber. He kept them there, clearly visible to Penn as a threat.
Penn smiled in response. The dragon head on his cane glowed and Penn’s head started to transform into a dragon.
“We can both play at this game,” Penn replied. He paused for a moment, his head changing back to human form. “Now, do we have a deal or not?”
“Tell me,” he said to Penn. He waved his hand briefly behind him and the human shapes melted downwards onto the ground. Then, their essence flowed back up the wall and returned to the mirror.
Raelinn looked down behind her. She and James had zigzagged a long way up the side of the mountain and they could see over the tops of the trees lower down. There was movement there, like bats, but larger, darting around in the shadows.
“What are those?” she asked, pointing.
“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” replied James.
They continued making their way up the rough mountain path. It required all James’s concentration to keep his footing as he made his way between tree roots and up the steep terrain. He used tree trunks for support.
“As we get closer, I think the storylines are becoming more real. They are materializing into something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. But be careful what you think of. I was just thinking of vampire bats… sorry, no offence.”
“None taken,” replied Raelinn coldly. “You really don’t like our kind, do you?”
“Let’s just say I have trust issues,” he replied. “Past history with Orfeo and Penn.”
“I understand,” Raelinn replied. She ducked quickly as something swooped down over their heads.
“What the hell was that?” asked James.
“A dragon, I think,” Raelinn said quickly.
A jet of fire flew downwards towards them. They ducked down as the evergreen fir trees above them burst into flame. James watched as a shadow of a dragon soared upwards and dissolved back into the ethereal storylines.
“It’s tapping into our fears,” he said flatly. “Our subconscious. Think good thoughts only.”
/> “Good thoughts,” said Raelinn sourly. “If only it were that easy.”
“I know,” he replied. “You must have some happy memories. Family? When you were younger?”
A swarm of something formed from the circling storylines above.
“Uh oh,” James said, spotting it out of the corner of his eyes. “Tell me something good happened to your family.”
“No…” Raelinn started to reply.
The swarm dived. James did too. He pushed Raelinn out of the way and to the ground. Then there was quiet. James looked up into the eyes of a demon, standing there on the path in front of him.
“Demons?” he said, getting up to his feet slowly. Two more were present, one on the path above them and one below.
“Yes,” Raelinn said quietly. “This is what Orfeo saved me from.”
“You sure?” replied James, mustering courage. “Bogeymen? You weren’t just dreaming?”
One of the demons leapt forwards, slashing at James. He sidestepped, the demon just missing him.
“Bogeymen?” asked Raelinn, looking at him quizzically.
“You said Orfeo saved you from the Spanish flu?”
“Yes,” replied Raelinn.
“So, I figure, maybe you were hallucinating?” he explained. “I don’t think they were ever real!”
Another demon leapt upwards and then landed between James and Raelinn. It grabbed Raelinn and pulled her backwards.
“They’re not real,” said James a little louder. “You have to believe it, Raelinn.”
She kicked downwards and twisted around the side of the demon to get at it from behind. It was a good move, but the demon twisted out of her grip and turned to face her.
James caught a wisp of a storyline as it moved past him. He looked inside it and it gave him an idea. Holding onto the thread, he reached up to a tree branch and pulled it down towards him, collecting water in his cupped hand. Then he held the water and storyline together and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Help her,” he asked.
The demon turned its head and looked at him, puzzled. James opened his eyes and threw the droplets at the demon’s face. They splashed against his skin and immediately absorbed. Then the demon looked back at James in shock. Its skin started to smoke and then slowly dissolved, from head to foot. The resulting dust spiralled upwards into the night air.
There was a growl behind him.
James turned to face the other demons. He made a reach up to another tree branch but, one of the demons slashed at him, to prevent him collecting more. He tried to fend the demon off, but it caught him on the arm, pulling him off balance. He grabbed onto the tree trunk for balance, missed and slipped down. The demon took the advantage to move past him and close in on Raelinn. Weakened and surprised, James awkwardly pulled himself to his feet and did the only thing he could think of. He lunged at the demon, crashing down on top of it. He let go as it beat its wings and took off. It circled back around intending to strike once more, while James clawed his way back up the embankment to where Raelinn was. His actions had bought them both some time, but there were still two demons to defeat.
“They’re not real, Raelinn,” he said, out of breath as he neared her. “Just your childhood fears. From when you were ill.” He breathed heavily. “Say it!”
“Just my fears,” Raelinn said weakly. “Just my fears.”
“Yes,” James said as he tried to catch his breath. He looked at the slash on his arm. It was bleeding through his jacket. Along with the other cuts and bruises from the replays, the injuries were taking their toll. “Say it again,” he urged, breathlessly.
“Just my fears,” replied Raelinn, a little more certainly. Then she looked at the demons. “You’re not real!”
The two remaining demons staggered backwards in surprise. Their heads started to smoke and then dissolve. No longer a threat, James and Raelinn watched as the creatures dissolved into thin air. Finally, alone again, Raelinn came over to him.
“You knew what to do,” she said. “How?”
“I just saw it,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You said I could see storylines?”
“Yes,” she smiled at him. “You did that for me?”
“It was nothing,” he smiled.
He looked down at his arm.
“You’re injured?” Raelinn asked, concerned.
“It’s okay,” he said, moving away from her a little.
“Please,” she urged. “Let me.”
She put her hand on his arm. It started to sting, and he flinched. He looked down at it and could see the cut boiling but closing. It was healing.
“Thank you,” he said, looking up at her and then down at the cut on his arm.
“Thank you,” she replied. She kissed him on the cheek. “No-one has ever done anything like that for me,” she said quietly into his ear.
She pulled back, smiling at him, baring her fangs. He was uncertain, but she made no move to attack. After a moment, he decided it was just a smile between friends, nothing sinister.
“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, returning the smile. “Come on. We need to keep moving.”
He looked past her to the valley in the distance. It was making its contours visible to them the more they climbed. More wisps of storylines swirled and twisted in the moonlight, waiting for a suggestion to manifest into something real. He could also see that there was a building not too far above them.
“Come on,” he said, pointing. “Let’s see if we can get to whatever that is up there before we get into any more trouble.”
Chapter 5
Protests at the library
Yas awoke to the sound of her alarm, feeling unsettled. She’d had a restless night, struggles featuring in her dreams. In one she was trying to reach Akoni but couldn’t.
She washed and dressed and headed downstairs for breakfast. It was a little later in the morning, being a Saturday, and her mom had already left to shop for groceries. Yas couldn’t hear any other movement in the house so she figured her dad had gone with her or had to work on the weekend again.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the front room. She was pleasantly surprised to see a folder on the coffee table between the chairs. Her dad must have left it there. Now was her chance to take a look while he was out of the house.
She looked through to the kitchen to see if she could sense her dad around. Nothing. She went into the front room and perched on the arm of the chair nearest the table. She became aware of a humming noise, sensing energy in the air. Perhaps she was attributing too much significance to what ultimately looked like a battered, boring work binder, but she had the sense that something was emanating from it.
Just to make sure she was alone, she called out. “Dad? Mom?”
She looked up at the door and listened for a reply. Satisfied that no-one else was around, she reached forwards and opened the folder.
There was a rush of air that spread outwards. For a moment, Yas imagined that she could see a faint glimmering light on the leading edge of the wave. It seemed to touch everything, playing across the rug, the chairs and the walls. The air moved passed Yas and she became very cold, her pendant literally freezing against her skin. There was a rumble also, and she dropped down into the chair. She looked to the door of the room and listened quietly to double-check that she was alone. Then she leaned forwards and turned pages in the folder.
Her eyes widened in amazement. The folder contained information about her adopted brother, Akoni. It seemed that there was much more to the story than he had told her and Sam when they met in the forest. There were recent pictures of Akoni, who looked troubled, together with another man that she didn’t recognise. She couldn’t make out where they were, the background of the picture was dark. If she had to guess, it seemed as though the pictures were taken near water. It appeared he had not been as forthcoming with the truth as she had hoped.
Yas flicked through more information. She found receipts indicating payments to Akoni a
nd that he’d been employed by a publishing company, here in Byford. The logo on the receipts was familiar, matching the book she’d received at the Commissioner’s dinner.
She quickly scanned the dates on the receipts. The payments were recent. How did her dad get this information, she wondered. Why had he kept it secret? It seemed that he knew that Akoni was back but he hadn’t talked about it. On further reflection it matched how secretive he had become.
“Damn it,” she said quietly to herself. “Why are you both lying to me?” In truth, she was kicking herself mentally for wanting to believe Akoni’s story.
Yas searched through for more information, to try to help answer the questions she now had. Where had Akoni been? How long had he been around? And how had her dad come to get this information?
“What the hell, Dad?” Yas whispered.
There were more photos, which she also felt were recent, seemingly the result of some surveillance. The pictures were of Akoni here in Bystead. He was walking along the street unaware that he was being watched. It puzzled Yas. She questioned herself. Could she be wrong? Could these have been from two years ago?
Nothing else helped answer the questions. Her attention turned to her dad. This information seemed to conflict with what he’d said the other night. Why did he tell her to keep her head down? It seemed he knew something that he was not prepared to share. Well, there was no change there then, she mused, reflecting on his actions following the disappearance of Akoni and her grandpa.
She continued to search through, looking at the information carefully to try to spot some detail she’d missed the first time around. She became so focussed that she didn’t notice her dad come through the front door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, staring at her.
Startled, she jumped, wondering how he’d managed to appear without making a sound. She closed the folder quickly. With the draft of air she’d caused, a photograph flew out from the folder and floated away. Strangely, its motion was much slower than she would have expected. She had what seemed an eternity to look at it. It was Akoni, on the boat, looking in her direction. He was in trouble, she knew it. He seemed to be looking at her, reaching out to her mentally. It was odd. It made no sense, yet she felt it to be true. She reached out and caught it, then stood up.
The Word Guardians: and the Twisting Tales Page 12