“What are we guarding?” asked Jem.
“Souls,” I said, launching into my explanation. “Guardians and Observers work closely to keep the balance in our favor. An Observer is gifted with the ability to see the emotional aspects of a soul in a physical manner. Their job is to monitor those who are in danger of becoming lost and to spot lost souls. As a Guardian, you will have the ability to see a soul’s status as well. However, you will see things a little differently than an Observer does. Your job is to put the lost souls on the right path before they fall to the Discordant, so your sight will be focused more on sensing what path that may be.”
“Wait, so we’re supposed to what? Stop people from doing bad things?” asked Nai. “I thought you said good and evil were both part of Order?”
“They are and no, you are not,” I said, feeling a headache coming on. “You can’t understand the difference right now, but you will once you encounter your first lost soul. The lost aren’t good or bad. They’re just… well, lost. Getting them back on the path of Order might just as likely involve convincing them to make a bad decision as much as a good one. Neither of you need to worry about the morality of the decision. All you are concerned with is that it’s the right one. Pushing them into the wrong decision might just push them closer to Chaos.”
“How will we know?” asked Jem.
“That’s where your powers will come into play,” I said, knowing I had their attention now. “A lot of times, it’ll be easy. But not always. For tough to gauge souls, you’ll have to use your soul gaze. This is the ability to see beyond the current Cycle and into the past lives of the soul. Then, you’ll be able to pick out patterns that might help you figure out which direction to push them in.”
“And what does that mean?” Nai asked. “Do we just tell them to do something or is there magic involved with that as well?”
“It’s a little of both,” I explained. “Another power you’ll have is influence. Use this sparingly and only on stubborn souls because it can be draining. Most of the time, all you will need to do is talk them down off the proverbial ledge, even if that means letting them jump from the literal ledge.”
“For real?” Nai asked with an amused expression.
“No way!” her brother said with a look of disgust. “I am not doing that!”
“It’s all balance, remember?” I reminded him. “But, that’s why we have the two of you. Normally, there is only one Guardian, but you two are something of a special case, considering that you are a split soul.”
“Huh?”
“A what?”
Two sets of confused eyes stared at me and I cursed Sven, who again, was supposed to have gone over all of this before they ever got to my office. With another deep and defeated sigh, I launched into my explanation.
“Much like your being twins is the result of an embryonic split, the two of you were, until this last Cycle, one single soul. This is rare, but not unheard of.”
“Is that why we’re so different?” asked Nai.
“Very much. The original soul was divided down the moral center, which is why you find your brother’s behavior to be annoyingly upbeat and do-good. Likewise, this is the reason he thinks you are pure evil and prays for your soul.”
“So… all those things I’ve done, the reason I’m a bad person, were not my fault?”
“No, not really. Had you lived, you would have likely done worse,” I admitted. There was no point in sugar coating the truth.
“So why would I have gone to Hell?” she asked, now getting upset. “How is that fair?”
“I never said it was fair,” I countered. “It’s just part of the balance. But getting back to the subject,” I started, but Nai cut me off again.
“No, don’t change the subject! This is bullshit!”
“She’s right,” added Jem, looking shocked that he agreed to anything his sister said. “It’s totally not fair. Can’t we like, split the punishment?”
“Huh?” I looked at the two of them for a moment, completely confused until I realized what they were saying. “No one is being punished. Don’t you get that? I only showed you what could have happened to your souls because you didn’t believe that you were dead. Neither of you is going to Hell. You’re going to Blackbird, which, I’m not going to lie, might be worse.”
“What the hell is Blackbird?” Nai asked, still gripping the sides of her chair as if the ground beneath her would crumble and expose the fiery pits of Hell.
“A small town in the Midwest that has an unusually high number of lost souls, which makes it a magnet for the Discordant. The last Guardian cycled a few days ago and the Observer is having a rough time of it. We’ve sent in a Warrior, one of the best, but neither a Warrior nor an Observer can save souls. And that’s where you two will come in.”
“So, we’re like, actually going to be guardian angels?”
Once again, I almost felt bad about wiping the dopey smile from Jem’s face.
“Guardians. Just Guardians. You do not, and I mean do not want to find yourself associating with angels.” Even here, outside of the Cycle, the thought of angels made me cringe. I really had to wonder how they became so twisted in Christian lore that people would willingly paint pictures and carve statues in their likeness. “But yes, you will be protecting souls. That is your job. Are you both clear?”
“Um, not really.”
“Oh?” I looked over at Jem, who was frowning.
“Well, it’s just that… If this Blackbird place is so bad, why are you sending in us? We’re the rookies, right?”
“Right,” I nodded. He did have a point and I found myself struggling to justify the Creator's decision. “It was a judgment call that the Creator made based on several factors. Number one, I wasn’t kidding, Desmond really is one of the best. A Warrior is only posted to places where Discordant activity is at a critically high level. He was pulled out of Los Angeles to deal with Blackbird. The Creator and I both trust that he will protect you. Number two, the Creator feels that historically, split souls make the best Guardians and the numbers back that up. And number three, to be honest, there’s a lack of qualified candidates at the moment. Your split, combined with the Discordant nature of your death, would have made you a candidate regardless, but as it stands, you two were the only souls available for the job.”
“What do you mean by the Discordant nature of our death? I thought we died in a boating accident?” Nai asked, looking more scared than angry.
“You did. Your boat sank as a result of a crash caused by a siren. But not to worry,” I added hastily. “The siren was caught and disposed of, and the enthralled captain was caught and rescued before his soul was sent to the realm of Chaos.”
“Oh, well yeah, now that you put it that way, what was I thinking?” Nai’s voice was sarcastic and I was almost worried that her eyes would roll so far up into her head that they would fall out her ears. “Thank goodness the idiot captain of a tour boat survived the crash that killed my whole damned family!”
“Okay, when you put it like that, yes, it is small comfort. I’m sorry,” I said and meant it. After thirty-five years of doling out post-death job assignments, sometimes I wasn’t as sensitive as I probably should have been.
“Did they suffer?” Jem asked in a small and shaky voice. Again, I had to remind myself that I was dealing with kids.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “It’s different for everyone. I don’t remember dying at all and I had known it was coming.”
“I don’t remember anything,” Nai said, scrunching up her face. “We were on a boat, heading out to a lighthouse, and I was bored. Next thing I know, we’re here.”
“You fell asleep,” Jem told her. “I remember falling over the side when we hit something, but not much after that.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, your parents are in a better place until the time when they cycle again. They won’t have any memories of the accident, good or bad, because that’s how an afterlife works
,” I informed them. I wasn’t sure if that was entirely correct, seeing as I haven’t been there myself, but that’s basically what Hattie described.
“I guess that’s something,” Jem said with a hopeful look at his sister.
“Well, it’s time,” I said, glancing at the clock on my desk. It didn’t keep time in the same way that a normal clock did. Instead, it gave me a read out of fluctuations in the cycle. Right then, something big was going down in Blackbird and I didn’t want to hold back the Guardians any longer than necessary. “I think we should go meet your new coworkers.”
That is, if they’re both still there, I added silently. No sense in completely scaring them off just yet.
Chapter 2
No One Hates Blueberry Pancakes
If Pete’s little dirty trick was meant to shame me, it failed miserably. If anything, it vindicated me against the accusations people have been throwing at me my whole life. Mom always wanted to know why I couldn’t be a good child who followed rules like my brother. Well, now I know. I’m simply not a good person. I’m the evil yin to my brothers goody two shoes yang. It’s an amazing feeling to know that there is nothing wrong with me. I’m evil, but that’s okay because I could never be anything but evil. And to think, I was merely a bit of a bitch! My only regret is that I showed so much unnecessary restraint. I mean, really! If I was headed to Hell whether I was a fluffy bunny lover or an axe murderer, why would I waste my time with bunnies?
I’d feel sorry for Jem, really, I would. It’s not his fault he’s an idiot, after all. But, because I am the embodiment of all things evil, I won’t feel sorry for him. Not really. I am incapable of such tender emotions and I will not be shamed because of this. Damn, that’s so freeing to think about!
“Why do you look so happy?” Jem asked with a nervous frown. Now that he knew about our split soul nonsense, he seemed torn between feeling bad for me and being terrified of me.
We were sitting in a small apartment, above a bar, in what passed as a downtown in Blackbird. Pete had just stepped out for a smoke. I considered asking if he had another one just to get away from Jem and his annoyingness, but knowing my luck, he’d probably just lecture me on why kids shouldn’t smoke. All adults were hypocrites like that.
According to Pete, this is where our new legal guardians lived, but we’d be moving to a bigger house because not all of us could fit. That was an understatement. This place was tiny, practically claustrophobically so. The kitchen was actually smaller than my bathroom back home. Not the main bathroom, my tiny private bath. Seriously, that’s how small this place was.
“What don’t I have to be happy about?” I sneered, turning back to face my brother. “I win, Jem. You lose.”
“But you’re pure evil!” he spit back in disgust. “How the heck do you think you’ve won? I feel so awful about this. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
“You feel sorry for me?” I laughed. “Jem you’re a damned idiot, you know that? I don’t feel sorry for you, you know.”
“I do know, and that’s the problem. Do you know how lucky you are to not be in Hell right now? I told you it was real!”
“Hell is only technically real. And you heard Pete, there’s nothing I could have done to save my soul, so suck it, brother! We both avoided our crappy afterlife and now we’re super heroes. I’ll say it again. I freaking win!”
“But you… I don’t even…” Jem sputtered, but whatever he was going to say, as well as whatever I was planning on shouting over him, died as the door to the apartment opened. Some blond guy who looked a bit like he had just been run over by a truck stared at us with these great big moon eyes, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Over his shoulder, a big, and I mean big, black guy peeked in, rolled his eyes, and moved away. Then the blonde guy shut the door.
“Ugh! Rude! What the hell do you think that was about?” I asked, more to hear my own voice since, obviously, Jem wouldn’t have any clue either.
“That was our team,” Jem answered, to my surprise. “You didn’t feel that?”
“Feel what?” I asked, but stopped. Jem was right. When the door opened, the energy shifted slightly. “Hang on,” I said and got up, moving into the teeny hallway that housed three doors. Two bedrooms and a bathroom. I put my hand on each of the bedroom doors and the weird shift returned. Nothing I felt was tangible, but somehow I could identify, without opening the door, which room belonged to each agent. “Wicked,” I said, and flopped back onto the sofa in the living room. “But kind of useless. Don’t we get anything fun, like curses?”
“We’re not Warriors, Nai. Remember? We only get to protect ourselves.”
“No, Pete said we had defensive magic in the event that we were attacked,” I reminded him. “Do you even know what defensive means?”
“Uh, duh, Nai. I was only on the football and basketball teams.” Jem rolled his eyes as if he had just imparted some wisdom instead of a reminder that he was a stupid jock. “You’re thinking of offensive.”
Whatever.
“So, do you think these guys have cable?” I asked, picking up the remote control and flipping through the channels. “Ugh, no premium.” I tossed the remote back on the sofa and got up.
“Oh yes! I love this show!” I glanced back at the TV and saw that Jem had found reruns of this super stupid show from the early nineties about some idiot kids at some school with an idiot teacher. At least it kept him amused and shut him up. I went back down the hallway. If our so-called guardians were going to ignore us, then I was going to find out all I could about them on my own.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
I turned around, expecting to see one of the guys from earlier. Instead, this little troll of a man with the worst fashion sense I’ve ever seen stood in the doorway, wagging a stubby finger at me as if I was a little kid who got caught sneaking cookies.
“What the crap are you?” I heard Jem yelp as he dove behind the sofa.
“Oh my,” I said laughing at Jem’s total overreaction. I was so hung up on the bowling shirt and fedora combo he was rocking that I nearly missed the fact that this guy was a Discordant. “He’s one of them, Jem! Let’s get him!” Finally! A chance to use these powers we supposedly had.
“Hey now, hold your horses, missy,” the little toad said, holding up his hands. “First of alls, you twos bein’ Guardians ain’t got the power needed to send me anywhere. And second of alls, I’m just a lesser demon, a banished one at that, so don’t get your panties in a bunch, okay? Last of alls, it’s rude to threaten a guy in his own digs, got it? Now, who’s hungry?”
“Huh?” Jem poked his head over the sofa.
“Did I stutter? I said, who… is…hun…gry? I’m guessin’ the last time yous guys ate was before you died. Me? I ain’t had nothin’ since lunchtime yesterday, so I’m starvin’. Now, I know it’s late, but technically, it’s morning, so… blueberry pancakes or chocolate chip?”
As he prattled on, the demon shuffled over to the kitchen and began to whip together pancake batter and heat up a skillet. Oddly, he was half doing all that by hand and half moving the stuff he needed with magic. I wasn’t sure what was more surreal, that he threw on a frilly apron, or the fact that Jem’s fear went straight out the window once food was introduced into the equation. He was too stupid to consider that the demon might be trying to poison him.
“So, are you our legal guardian then?” Jem asked like an idiot.
“Me? Nah, that’ll be Seth and Desmond,” the demon replied. “That’s kinda funny though. Legal guardian. What are yous guys then, the illegal Guardians?”
He started cracking up over his own lame joke and of course, Jem joined in because like father, he had a rubbish sense of humor.
“Was that the two guys who opened the door and stared at us?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s them.”
“Ugh! Rude!”
“Ugh! You was arguing,” he mocked. “Theys is downstairs tyin’ up some loose ends from ea
rlier. You don’t even wanna know what kind of an evening they had, so lay off for the time bein’.” He started setting the table and looked up at me. “You gonna join us or you gonna just stand there and scowl?”
I stood there and scowled.
“Come on, Nai,” Jem said, patting the table. “Don’t even act like you don’t like blueberry pancakes. No one hates blueberry pancakes, not even you.”
“Fine,” I huffed and walked over to the table. “But I’m not eating anything until both of you do.”
“Hey, don’t knock my cookin’ ‘till you trys it.”
“Nai, seriously, this is good,” Jem said while stuffing his face so fast I thought he was going to choke.
“See? It’s just like my great uncle Howie used to say, ‘Make food, make friends.’ He was a wise man. It’s a real shame what happened to him. Now, have a seat.”
I sat, but I resisted. The pancakes smelled okay, but I couldn’t help but think this was some sort of a trick.
“So, I know yous two is the new Guardians, but Pete never got around to tellin’ me your names.”
“I’m Jem, and the grump is my sister, Nai,” my brother offered. The demon grinned and I groaned as he caught the obvious and terrible pun.
“Jem and Nai, that’s cute. Perfect name for a couple of twinsies.”
“Dad was way into mythology,” Jem said with a stupid puppy smile because the demon ‘got’ the joke. It was always like this. As if Jem thought the regrettable pun was some sort of secret joke that only cool people understood.
“Our father was an historian,” I corrected. “Brilliant, but not known for a unique or even marginally proper sense of humor.”
“Hey now, don’t be too hard on your old man,” the demon said. “You should be honored to have a unique name. It has meaning.”
“Says you,” I retorted. “What’s your name anyway?”
“The name’s Hubert, but you can call me Bogie. Everyone else does.”
Splitsville (Rise of the Discordant Book 2) Page 2