“Sssh,” said the older lady gently with the same smile on her face. She closed her eyes and blew gently across the tea, then took a sip. She opened her eyes slightly again and nodded to both of them to do the same.
Sam and Yas again exchanged quizzical glances and then decided to do as they had been shown. They blew across the tea, then closed their eyes and took a sip.
Yas found the tea to be immediately refreshing. It was hot, yet not so hot as to scald, and bizarrely did seem to relax and clear away some of the confusion from her mind. She felt a sense of calm. Enjoying this, she naturally wanted more. She blew her tea again, closed her eyes and took another sip, noticing another shift in her clarity. Then she found herself wondering if there was some form of hallucinogen at play.
“These are troubling times,” said a gentle older Asian male voice next to them.
They both opened their eyes quickly, a little startled, but conscious that a sudden move would cover themselves with hot liquid. They saw a man, partially transparent, sitting on the remaining cushion, legs crossed and with his arms resting in his lap in a meditation pose. Yas wondered where he had appeared from. Was she hallucinating now too?
“This is no hallucinogen, I assure you. We need to answer other questions today,” he replied. “Please...” he gestured towards the cups that they had lowered back to their saucers, “...the tea is important to establish the right questions.”
Other than the sound of gentle blowing and sipping, there was quiet for a moment.
“I am Y’in,” said the man. “And this is Y’an,” he gestured to the lady who was now sitting next to him. “She helps me... as I help her. We are one.” They both bowed gently and nodded.
“Jasmine tea is a ritual of welcome in our house,” he explained, slowly and deliberately. “Jasmine flowers are harvested in the morning and kept until evening for scenting the tea. It is said that the process infuses calm and dispels the rush of questions.” He smiled and closed his eyes as he finished, taking another sip of his tea. Then, placing his cup back down on the tray and smiling playfully, he added, “It also tastes good.”
Sam and Yas also took further sips of the tea. Yas noticed that indeed the rush of questions was settling in her mind.
“Can you help us?” she found herself asking.
The old man closed his eyes and nodded.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “But first we should talk of how you came to be here. Then you will know what you seek.”
Great. Another mystical riddle thought Yas. She wondered what he was getting at. Instead of asking what he meant, she simply looked at him and took another sip of tea.
“You are both wearing pendants?” he asked, opening his eyes again.
“Yes,” they both replied.
“Know that you will need them less and less as you become the Guardians you are meant to be.”
“Wait, what?” Sam exclaimed, halfway through a sip of tea. “Guardians?” He focussed on steadying his hand, so he wouldn’t throw tea over himself.
“You are both Guardians now, like it or not. There is much to know, but I can only tell you so much. The rest you need to find out for yourselves.”
“What does that mean?” asked Sam, a little exasperated.
“It means, you know more than you think you do,” replied Y’in, smiling. “Your belief that your father is still alive comes from here.” He paused, positioning his right hand over his chest. “There too is your guardian spirit. Trust it, Sam.”
“How do you know my name?”
Y’in smiled. “I have known your name for a long time. Since you visited with your mother.”
Sam looked at Y’in in surprise. “My mom?”
“Yes,” Y’in replied simply. “You don’t remember?”
Sam looked around incredulously, recalling a vague memory and wondering if that was where he was sitting right now. “I thought we went to China!”
Y’in smiled and laughed a little, then motioned to them both to take another sip of tea. As he did so, he looked at Yas.
“You have questions.”
“Yes,” she said. “We need to find Sam’s dad and the bookstore owner. Can you help us please?”
Y’in took a deep inhale of breath. His eyes glazed over as he looked into the distance.
“Yes,” he said, and sat still for a few moments. “Both have been taken by those who wish to control.”
“Controllers?” asked Yas.
“Yes,” replied Y’in, nodding. “They have many names. They seek to create fear and doubt so that those who have integrity will not be heard.”
“Who?” asked Yas. “Can you tell us?”
“There is a master Controller, but he acts through others.”
“Others,” said Yas to herself, remembering. “Penn?” she asked, looking at Sam. “Wesley said he was sending others.”
“Could be?” replied Sam. “I guess we’ll find out more if we find McVale and my dad.”
“They are alive,” replied Y’in.
Sam breathed a huge sigh of relief. Yas watched him. She imagined that hearing that news had been exactly what he had been waiting for, but she also noticed that Y’in’s answer was a little guarded. She didn’t want to press the point in case there was bad news.
“So... where are they?” asked Yas.
“I can show you snippets,” Y’in replied. “Stories, from the realms.” He placed his cup on the tray, then he cupped his hands together in his lap and closed his eyes again. Above them, a blue, semi-transparent sphere appeared, suspended perfectly. Inside, different images appeared, faded and changed. There were scenes, of different places, each presenting a teaser trailer for a few seconds before being replaced by the next. Whether chronological or not, neither of them knew.
The first was an ordinary front room. It looked familiar and Yas was intrigued.
“That’s my parent’s house!” she said, puzzled. She knew those bookshelves. They had always just been like that. She leaned forwards, puzzled as to what this was trying to show her.
All too quickly, the scene changed to a marketplace, just like here in Alexandria, except that whoever was holding the camera was moving fast. Buildings and people moved towards them in flashes of colour. Then the picture changed to a forest at night, with moonlight creating shafts of light. Some people or animals were moving, changing the shadows being cast. Yas strained to see, but she couldn’t make them out. Then the face of a werewolf appeared very close to the imaginary camera. Yas jumped in surprise and sat back. The werewolf faded, the view changing to that of the exterior of a large house, set in the country. There was a man at the front door.
“Dad!” exclaimed Sam, recognising the person.
Finally, the scene changed to what looked like a huge library room, with bookshelves that defied the laws of physics. It looked like an impossible dimension drawing that Yas had seen before where the perspective was all wrong. A person could start climbing some stairs and then jump sideways and be walking at ninety degrees to where they started. There were no people there, only books, floating gracefully back and forth between the shelves.
After the whirlwind tour, the moving pictures stopped, and a single image appeared and faded. That of a black dragon. Y’in opened his eyes and regarded it carefully, as if it were a snake that may bite. Then it faded.
“Can you show us my dad again?” asked Sam, relentless for more.
“No, I’m sorry,” Y’in said gravely. He breathed in deeply through his nose. “Everything you need is here,” he said, looking down to the place where the sphere had been. “But I must tell you that things are not as they might appear.”
“What do you mean?” asked Yas.
“There are those trying to conceal danger as safety and create fear where there should be calm.”
“Why?” pressed Yas.
“It is not clear,” replied Y’in.
Yas placed her cup on the tray. Her mind replayed the events of Victorian London, to try to remember something that m
ight indicate a possible motive. The rioting mob and creatures certainly created fear and danger, and she remembered that some ethereal readers became stuck and others departed quickly. What did it mean though? What would the Controllers gain by doing this?
“There is a saying ‘Read between the lines’, Y’in said, smiling his half smile again. “Anywhere the real meaning is not clear, it is playing out in the imagination.”
“What does that mean?” asked Sam, starting to become irritated. “Why do you talk in riddles all the time?”
“Life isn’t straightforward,” answered Y’in plainly. “Nor is it within the realms either.”
“So, you’ll help us though, won’t you?” pressed Sam.
“Sam, as a Custodian, I cannot act on what I see. Think of me as a spiritual advisor. You and Yas are guardians who can act where necessary, but only once you have understood the meaning of the messages.”
“So why can’t you just tell us what the meaning is?” continued Sam.
“Because it is often not clear to me either. Only by solving the clues will you determine the course of action you need to take.”
Sam sat quietly for a moment. It made sense to him, but he was at a loss as to what to ask next.
“You said ‘playing out in the imagination’?" Yas asked, continuing her own thread of questions. "Whose?"
“I can only guess that imagination is the target for the Controllers.” Y’in continued. “And they seek to influence the behaviour of many.”
Yas remembered the ethereal readers again. So that was it. Whatever actions they were taking in realms influenced the readers’ behaviour. Then a thought hit her.
“In the real world?” she asked Y’in. “They seek to change behaviour of the many outside the realms.”
Y’in nodded. “For what agenda is not clear.”
He paused and looked at Yas first and then Sam.
“However, by walking the path, you will find out.”
“What path?” asked Sam.
“Its figurative,” sighed Yas. Then turning back to Y’in, she asked, “So where do we start?”
“Seek your father, Sam,” Y’in replied, looking at Sam. “He will have answers.” Sam nodded in reply.
Y’in looked at Yas. “Everything will follow from that.” Yas waited for him to say to find McVale. He didn’t. Instead, he looked at Y’an, his eyes changing to a look of concern.
“We have been discovered.”
The lady nodded calmly, placed her tea back on the tray and stood up. She gestured to Yas and Sam to do the same.
“I must go,” he said. The lady nodded again and he faded, leaving the three of them alone.
The lady moved behind Yas and Sam and gently ushered them both towards the side curtain of the room, which was moving in a slight breeze. Yas was sure there was no exit there before.
“You must leave,” Y’an whispered gently from behind. She nudged Sam forwards, but placed her hand on Yas’s shoulder for a moment.
“Remember that the best hiding place for a secret is in plain sight,” she said.
Yas turned her head and was about to ask what she meant, when she heard a male voice from the other room. Someone else must have entered the museum. There were voices, heavy footsteps, crashes and the sound of things breaking.
“What’s happening?” whispered Yas in alarm. She thought of all the beautiful items in the other room that were being smashed. It reminded her of the British Museum. She didn’t understand why. Y’an urged Yas forwards to follow Sam.
“Nothing that hasn’t happened before,” Y’an said calmly. Her voice trailed off as she nudged Yas forwards.
Immediately, Yas felt light-headed. The air changed around her. She heard outside sounds again. Voices, carts and animals. She opened her eyes but did not recall having closed them. Sam was right next to her. They were back in the sunny marketplace, but in a small street on the opposite corner to where they had first appeared.
A bulky man crunched his way satisfactorily through the smashed remains of the museum.
“Wait here!” he said to the bird headed men around him. They stopped their destruction and nodded at him expectantly.
“Mr. Sleight,” said Y’an, appearing by the curtain from the back room.
“You know my name?”
“I do.”
“You’re the Custodian then?” he smirked. He made his way towards her.
“Why should I pretend to be otherwise?”
“Who else is in there?” he asked, pushing past her and peering through the curtain. He noticed the tea ceremony. “Where are they?”
“They have left.”
“And gone where?”
“I did not ask,” she smiled.
“What did they want to know?” He stepped into the back room.
“I forget,” she said.
“I can make you remember,” threatened Sleight, putting his big hand on her neck and squeezing a little.
“Remember yes. Talk no,” replied Y’an, unfazed. “Your threats do not work on me.”
“Then you’ll sit,” he said, moving his hand to her shoulder and forcefully steering her to a cushion. He pushed her down.
“Mr. Sleight,” said another man crossly as he entered the room. “You idiot. Why all the mess? You just couldn’t wait could you!”
“There were others here,” he said gruffly. He motioned to Y’an. “She’s not telling who.”
The second man sat down, opposite Y’an and nodded to Sleight to remove his hand.
“I’m honoured to meet a Custodian,” he said.
“I know why you’re here, Detective Wheeler,” Y’an replied.
Wheeler smiled in reply. “Good. So, you can tell me where the peacekeepers are?”
“They are hidden in plain sight,” she said plainly. Then she leaned forward and looked at him closely. “But we both know what you really came here to ask, hmm?”
Detective Wheeler looked back at her in surprise and then up at Sleight to see if he had noticed. He couldn’t tell with that man.
“Hidden?” he asked.
“We’re playing this game, then?” replied Y’an. She could tell he was avoiding the topic she had challenged him on.
“Yes,” he said quietly back to her. “Is the girl involved?”
“Everyone plays a role. What’s yours, Detective?”
“We’re not here to discuss me,” he replied quickly. “I need to know who else is looking for the peacekeepers.”
“The girl is not looking for them, no,” replied Y’an.
That surprised Wheeler.
“What is she looking for?”
“Herself.”
Detective Wheeler sat back and laughed. Sleight sneered at him.
“You’re playing games with me!” challenged Wheeler. “What is she really looking for?”
“I’ve told you!” replied Y’an. “But its not the answer you wanted, was it? Limiting what you accept will be the undoing of all that is important to you.”
“A sage now, are you?” countered Wheeler. He was getting angry and frustrated.
Y’an simply sat back and smiled, showing that his reaction had re-enforced her point.
Wheeler leaned forward, simmering. “It will be your undoing in a minute if you don’t answer my questions.”
“As you wish,” replied Y’an.
“Where are the peacekeepers?” asked Wheeler.
“Not here. I could have told you that before you destroyed everything.”
“You would have told me?”
“Custodians do not lie,” Y’an said flatly.
“Who else is looking for them?”
“No one,” she said equally flatly.
“Ok then, what are they looking for?”
“Whatever is important to them. You for instance, wish to save your son at the expense of your employers.”
Sleight’s eyes widened. Wheeler stood up and moved to the side of the table near the curtain.
; “We’re done here. We’re not going to get anything from her.”
“That was a waste of time,” noted Sleight sarcastically, as he joined him.
“Yeah well if you hadn’t smashed everything,” Wheeler said gesturing to the mess the other side of the curtain.
“Are you questioning me?” asked Sleight, squaring up to him.
Ignoring him, Wheeler looked back at the table. “We need to do something about her.”
Sleight turned to look. She had become translucent.
“There is one other thing you must know,” she said as her body started to fade, leaving her shoulders and head hovering in the room.
“What,” asked Wheeler, making a grab for her, his hands going straight through her.
“I’m not who you think I am.”
“Damn it!” said Wheeler, realising they’d been fooled.
She smiled and disappeared.
“Where’d she go?” asked Sleight, frustration oozing out of him.
“She’s not the Custodian. Its been a diversion.”
“The girl?” asked Sleight as they made their way quickly back into the museum.
“You catch on quicker than your reputation suggests,” smirked Wheeler. “You said there were others? Who else was with her?”
“She wouldn’t tell me,” replied Sleight, irritated with Wheeler. “You should have let me handle the questioning.”
“You?” remarked Wheeler sarcastically. “You started with your hand on her neck!” He marched towards the exit. “Come,” he ordered the bird headed men. “We need to find them.” Together, they headed out into the streets.
Sam looked either side of him. “How did we get here?”
“Another doorway?” Yas wondered aloud. She was squinting from the sudden change into the bright light. She lowered her sunglasses.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
Instead of the trading market that they had mingled with earlier, there was now chaos. People were running across the square, glancing nervously behind them. Creatures, that Yas recognised from mythology, followed closely behind. Minotaurs, huge cyclops and other creatures pounded along the ground. They smashed their way through stalls, sending stall holders and remaining customers scattering in all directions. Some were lucky, disappearing down passageways. Others made it part way and then were trapped by four legged creatures, lions with human heads and large cats with serpent heads. To Yas and Sam, it felt very much like a bizarre game of round-up and play with your prey. Ethereal readers that had been browsing alongside actors at the stalls also became trapped in the changed story line. Yas watched as one ethereal reader froze in front of a sphinx, and then flickered. It was as if the reader was phasing in and out of the realm. Yas could see fear etched on the reader’s face, as the image jittered. It puzzled her. She remembered seeing something similar in Victorian London.
The Word Guardians: and the Battle for the Peacekeepers Page 12