Yas noticed the character of the Script look up at her.
“Ahh,” she said.
“What?” he called out from inside the room.
“I think we can do better than that.”
“How do you mean?” asked Sam, coming back to where Yas was standing.
“I think Script here can help us.”
Yas noticed that the character was looking at the card that Yas had in her hand. As she moved it about, the eyes of Script followed it. Then Yas held it out for Script and she took it and placed it in the book. As she did so, the portrayed image changed to a different doorway, the rippling center portraying somewhere sunnier and whiter.
“What’s happened to the doorway to Versailles?” Sam asked, alarmed.
“It will still be there when they need it to return,” reassured Yas. At least she felt that was true.
“Ok,” replied Sam, relaxing a little. “So, we go through?” he asked, touching his necklace also, feeling it getting warmer.
“Absolutely,” said Yas. She reached out for Sam’s hand and together they walked over to the middle arch then stepped up onto the wall.
“A leap of faith?” she teased Sam, playfully.
“Wha…?” Sam started to ask. But before he could finish, Yas stepped through, pulling him with her.
Chapter 6
The Hanging Gardens of Babylon
Yas stepped through into a hot, sunny, walled garden. The air was dry, desert like, and very still. Sam followed her, but stumbled, after she’d pulled him through. He caught himself and then stopped, looking around, squinting.
“So, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?” he asked.
“You sound surprised,” replied Yas. “What were you expecting?”
The ground beneath them was packed earth, and there were numerous smaller walls enclosing raised planters. There was a variety of shrubbery, fruit trees, berry bearing bushes and smaller tropical plants. The garden was quite beautiful to look at. Set out between the plants were carved statues of warriors and mythical creatures.
“It’s amazing,” said Yas, in awe.
“This is something else, for sure,” agreed Sam, changing his tune about the place. “I wonder where the water is coming from?” he asked, noticing the sound.
They both made their way inside the shade of a central structure, a roof supported on columns, and peered over the edge of a waist high wall. It was dark, but the coolness and smell indicated that there was water down below, somewhere.
“That’s a deep well,” remarked Sam.
There were steps leading down next to it. “I wonder where these go?” he added.
Yas moved towards them. “Let’s see.”
They followed the steps down. A gentle breeze moved past them as they descended.
“This is cool,” Sam remarked.
Yas agreed.
They reached the next level and moved out of the larger covered area, through the columns, into the sun.
“It was never really known if the Gardens were actually built. They were a myth really,” Yas explained.
“Do you think the Gardens only ever existed in a realm and became a myth as a result?” suggested Sam, as they moved about the next layer of the gardens. It had much the same layout and structure as the first, but the central section was wider, and the terrace was set out further. As they moved out of the central area, they could see the white wall of the garden above. Birds fluttered about the garden here, perching on the wall above them and moving to and from the many trees on the terrace. Their chirping and the sound of water flowing was quite tranquil.
“I don’t know,” replied Yas. She continued to marvel at the engineering and layout of the garden.
They made their way around to the other side of the central structure and stopped. They spotted someone watering the plants, over in the shade of one of the trees. Birds flew back and forth from the wall to where the lady was standing. She was singing, gently, her voice very soothing.
“Who is that?” whispered Sam.
“I don’t know,” replied Yas.
The lady must have become aware of their presence. She stopped singing and turned to face them.
Her face was partially hidden by a bright linen cloth that was draped over her head and extended down over a long dress. She smiled and started walking towards them.
Yas and Sam instinctively moved back into the shade and closer to the central wall. The steps were their escape if they needed one.
“I know you,” said the lady as she moved closer. “It’s okay,” she soothed.
“Who are you?” asked Yas, backing away a little further.
The lady joined them in the shade and removed the cloth from her head. She looked to be of middle eastern origin. Yas could not immediately place her. She seemed kind.
“You seek your brother,” she said softly. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, but,” Yas said, looking around for him. “Who are you?”
“The Gardens have provided an oasis in the desert,” she continued, gesturing to the landscape around them. “A safe place from those who seek him.”
Yas was taken aback. “Sorry? You know him?” she asked, incredulously.
“Yes,” smiled the lady. “Is it so difficult to accept?”
“This is my brother we’re talking about, yes? Akoni?” continued Yas.
“Doesn’t everyone deserve help?” asked the lady.
Yas was silent for a moment. She looked at Sam, in confusion and then back at the lady.
“Sorry!” Yas said, confused. “Can we start this again? Who are you?”
The lady smiled. “You may know me as Prana. Others see me as Amytis, wife of King Nebuchadnezzar.”
Sam nudged Yas. “Oh, right,” he said, gesturing to Prana. “Of course she is,” he added sarcastically.
Yas looked at Sam, annoyed, for a moment.
“I remember something about this in mythology,” she sighed. “The gardens were supposedly built for the king’s wife?”
“I knew that,” he retorted, seeing the look on her face.
Yas gave him a ‘seriously’ stare.
“Well, I know stuff about history, too!” he protested.
“Okay,” she replied, testily.
She turned back to face Prana.
“Listen,” Yas said. “It’s complicated… Akoni’s done some things. I don’t know if I can...”
“Trust?” finished Prana. “It’s a simple word but a difficult concept. Yes. I see your doubts.”
Yas wasn’t sure what to think or say next.
“Can we trust him?” asked Sam, filling in the gap and asking the question that Yas couldn’t bring herself to voice.
“That depends,” Prana replied.
“On what?” asked Yas, surprised by the reply.
“Trust often requires that the door of welcome is re-opened where there has been hurt.”
“What does that mean?” said Sam, echoing Yas’s feelings also on the matter.
“If you constantly see the betrayal in him, then that’s all you’ll see.”
“So, you’re saying he’s trustworthy now?” asked Sam, raising his eyebrows.
“His actions are up to him,” Prana replied sagely. “I’m saying that how you view him is up to you.”
“That doesn’t really help,” said Sam. “If you’ve been watching over him, can’t you tell us what he’s been doing here?”
Prana smiled. “He has been gardening, eating, sleeping and resting,” she replied sagely. “We have talked, and he recognises the pain he has caused, but as to his future actions, I cannot say. I am not a soothsayer.”
Sam was about to ask another question, but Yas touched him on his arm. He stopped.
“Is he here?” asked Yas. “He sent me a message to meet. We need to talk with him.”
Prana looked puzzled. “I have sensed no such message from him.”
“So, wait,” Yas said. Something from earlier in the conversation clicked int
o place. “You said you were Prana and Amytis.” She paused. “So, Prana? As in life force?”
“Yes,” laughed Prana in reply. “You are bright. He has said as much.”
The compliment passed Yas by for the moment. She continued her train of thought.
“So, you’re a Custodian? Prana? And an actor when you need to be? Amytis?”
Prana nodded. “You are correct.”
“And, as a Custodian, you’re saying you would have noticed if Akoni had sent me a message?”
“Yes,” Prana said.
Yas paused again.
“So, who did send the message then?” Sam asked, sensing what Yas was worried about.
They looked about, nervously. They could hear footfalls, coming closer, moving down the steps.
“Ssh,” Yas whispered to Prana and Sam. Sam understood and moved with Yas back to the central wall. Then they made their way along it cautiously. Sam peered around the corner and then looked back to Yas, puzzled.
“Oh hell,” Sam said, irritated. “What’s he doing here?”
“Who?” asked Yas.
Sam stepped out into full view of the stairs. “Eddie,” he said, with a false smile.
“Eddie?” said Yas, also puzzled. She moved next to Sam, to get a better view.
“Eddie?” she repeated, looking up at him.
Eddie was taking the stairs, unsteadily. He looked up at Yas in pain. Yas recognised the look from one she had seen a month ago when they had first met. Eddie was under some form of mind control again.
“What’s going on?” Yas asked, rushing up the remaining few steps to Eddie. She hugged him, hoping that somehow she could reassure him, keep him here and now as Eddie, rather than his mind controlled alter ego of Wesley.
“Yas,” croaked Eddie, fighting her off. He pushed her away and she stumbled down the steps, catching her balance. “You need to get away.”
She could feel the turmoil in him. Sam though was less sympathetic. “Why are you here?” he asked.
Eddie didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. Yas could see the twisting occurring on his face. He was fighting mind control. He moved down the remaining steps and looked across to Prana, who had moved back over to the plants and trees.
“I’m here for her,” he said coldly.
“Who?” asked Yas. She looked at his face and then at Sam in alarm.
“He’s under some form of mind control again. Like when we were at the galleon and in the forest.”
“What do you want with her?” Sam asked, understanding that this wasn’t Eddie.
Eddie looked at Sam. It was unnerving. There was a coldness in Eddie’s eyes that Sam hadn’t seen before.
“She’s a Custodian,” Eddie said. “He wants them.”
“Who?” asked Yas, touching Eddie on his arm. “Eddie, this is not who you are.” She tried to appeal to the real Eddie. She could see that he was there somewhere, underneath whatever was trying to assert itself.
“You have to get away,” Eddie said, looking at her. “He wants you too.”
“Who are you talking about?” asked Sam, raising his voice in irritation. They seemed to be getting nowhere.
Eddie just looked at Sam again, blankly, then smiled, cruelly. He started walking forwards towards the columns and out into the sun.
Yas followed, pleading with him. “This is not you, Eddie. Who’s in your head?”
“I…” Eddie started, regaining some form of control.
“Eddie,” Yas said, appealing to him. She could sense the mental turmoil in his mind.
“You’re you, Eddie,” she communicated telepathically, hoping to get through to him on a deeper level as she had when they were trapped at the galleon. “No-one else has the right to tell you what to do.”
“It’s for my dad, though,” Eddie replied telepathically. Then he added, aloud, “he said he would release him.”
“Who are you talking about, Eddie?” asked Yas. “Penn or Orfeo?”
“That would be me,” said a voice behind them.
Yas and Sam spun around, surprised. A figure moved silently away from the steps and towards the edge of the shadows. Orfeo.
“What are you doing here?” asked Yas, angrily.
“Oh, I sent the message,” he crowed. He mimed writing on a piece of card. “Meet me at the Hanging Gardens?”
“How d’you know I’d get it?” Yas asked.
“A guess,” answered Orfeo.
“A guess?” questioned Yas in surprise. “Then, who else were you looking for?”
Sam understood though. “Akoni?” he interjected.
“Well done,” smiled Orfeo, applauding.
There was a distant rumble in the ground. Yas and Sam looked at each other, questioning what that was. They glanced around to try to find the source but couldn’t see anything.
“What do you want with him?” pressed Sam, turning his attention back to Orfeo.
Orfeo though continued to be evasive.
Yas and Eddie continued to where Prana was. Yas squinted with the intensity of the sunlight but continued to communicate telepathically with Eddie.
“Whatever he’s told you. It’s a lie,” she said, hoping to convince him. “He won’t deliver what he’s promised.”
Eddie looked at her.
“It’s my only hope,” Eddie replied.
“No, Eddie. It’s not. We can help you.”
“You have to leave, Yas,” he said loudly, grabbing her roughly.
“Eddie!” Yas shouted back in surprise. Eddie started to squeeze her with almost superhuman strength.
“Let me go!” she screamed at him.
“Go!” he cried desperately.
Yas could see the conflict in him. Part of him desperately wanted her to stay. That’s why he was hanging onto her while also telling her that she needed to leave.
“Yas!” Sam shouted, starting to run towards Eddie. “Get away from her!”
There was another rumble.
“I need her!” shouted Eddie, tentacles forming from his body, enveloping Yas. “Stay away, Sam!”
Yas saw what was happening and tried to create magic of her own in defence, but she was too late. The tentacles pinned her.
Eddie pulled Yas towards him.
“I’m sorry, Yas!” He kissed her on the cheek.
“Let go of her, now!” Sam shouted, throwing a punch at Eddie’s face. He was furious.
Eddie was shocked but didn’t back down. Some of the tentacles holding Yas let go and started flailing at Sam in defence.
Sam was incensed. “Get off my girlfriend!” He threw another punch which connected just below Eddie’s left eye again. The second hit caused enough pain to shake Eddie momentarily from whatever control Orfeo had. He looked at Sam, shocked, and the tentacles shrank back.
Sam’s emotions were still boiling. He punched Eddie again and then turned and kicked him backwards. Eddie hit the ground and slid. He started to wriggle himself away as Sam moved in for more.
“Sam!” Yas shouted at him, running forwards and grabbing him by the arm. “Stop!”
Sam ignored her, though and kicked at Eddie again.
“Sam!” she shouted at him, desperately.
He stopped and looked at her, realising she was now free. He relaxed his shoulders.
They both looked at each other, breathless.
“So… get off my girlfriend?” Yas remarked, tongue-in-cheek. “What the hell was that all about?”
“I…” started Sam, trying to put together an explanation. “He kissed you!”
“Wow,” Yas said, staring. “I didn’t think you were the jealous type?”
“Of him?” Sam tried to dismiss, out of pride, “No!” However, he recognised that she had a point. He didn’t know why, but Eddie was really getting under his skin right now.
Orfeo applauded in the background. “Oh, I do enjoy the gladiatorial sports! Please do carry on!”
Sam stared back at Orfeo and relented. He recognised that he was
being played.
“If you think you’re so clever, then why isn’t Akoni here?” he shot back.
“He is, actually,” said another voice, from further round the columned structure. Akoni walked forwards into view.
“Akoni!” Yas said, concerned. She remembered what Orfeo had said. “You need to leave! Orfeo wants you.”
“Oh, I know that!” he replied, turning to look at Orfeo.
“You’ve been watching me for some time, haven’t you,” he stared into the shadows. “From your many mirrors!”
Orfeo smiled. “Yes. I must admit you have been hard to track down. Until I learned of this little messaging system you have.” He paused for a moment.
There was another rumble. Everyone except Orfeo looked around. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.
“Looks to me like you’re a bit stuck!” Sam shouted across to Orfeo. “Not able to come out into the sunlight?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that!” replied Orfeo, smiling. “I just need to be close enough to control Eddie here!”
“It’s going to be difficult to do that with this, though,” said Akoni, triumphantly, creating a mirror using word magic. He angled it to capture the sunlight and shone it at Orfeo. Orfeo hissed, part of his flesh starting to steam. He retreated further back into the shadows.
“Well, it’s three against one!” added Sam.
“Not really,” called Orfeo from under the structure in the middle of the garden. “Your little escapades here have bought me time.”
“Time for what,” shouted Yas, her concern growing.
A deep groan was getting louder just the other side of the wall. The ground rumbled and started to give way, the sand slipping downwards. The wall collapsed.
“Look out!” shouted Sam, grabbing Yas and trying to pull the two of them onto more solid ground.
On the other side of the wall, a large mound rose up. The sand moved underneath them, pouring downwards into a gap that something was creating.
Orfeo laughed, but struggled to stay out of the line of sight of Akoni and the shaft of light being reflected towards him.
“You know what your problem is?” said Orfeo, rhetorically.
“What?” replied Akoni defiantly.
The Word Guardians: and the Twisting Tales Page 17