Every Guardian was given a house by the lords – the higher the rank, the larger the place. Suffice to say, hers was small. It had a basement, as did all Guardian houses. She kept all her important things down there – her staff and the cauldron of water.
With one hand gently rubbing her forehead, Cindy headed for the basement. Once there, she sat down in front of the cauldron and dipped her hand into the water. As she began to chant, colours emerged before images formed.
She stared down at the table laden with foods. Lord Dragunov was always eating. Cindy added her name to the list of words to look out for as time passed quickly in the cauldron.
It wasn’t long before it appeared. She spun her hand in the water anti-clockwise, stopping the moment Marcus Ferrell entered the room.
“The boy still lives,” Lord Dragunov stated.
“There was a slight mishap, my lord. The person I had arranged to kill the Breeder died the morning he was to follow them.”
“Died how? Killed by the boy?”
“No, my lord,” Marcus said. “Cindy, the Guardian.”
“Cindy,” Lord Dragunov mused. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“She was the Other Sider that found the boy, the one that’s watching over him.”
“Other Siders,” Lord Dragunov jeered. “Another insult left by the great Zarlocks. The Cauldron only chooses the poor, the common, the indescribable – the scum. How did she know of your man?”
“She doesn’t normally look in the houses.” Marcus shrugged. “Lucky guess I suppose.”
“What happened at the House of Zarlock?”
“They flew over the house before-”
“The house didn’t stop them?” Lord Dragunov interrupted.
“No, my lord,” Marcus said. “But they were attacked. This great big creature almost ate the Breeder.”
Lord Dragunov’s eyes narrowed. “What did it look like, the creature?”
“It was dark, my lord. Hard to see clearly, but it had yellow eyes, big head, lots of sharp teeth, big hands, long claws. It could fly too.”
“I wonder...” Lord Dragunov picked up a roasted lamb leg and bit into it. The only sounds that followed were of his chewing. He threw away the now meatless leg bone before he spoke. “I want the Other Sider’s head,” he said.
“Of course, my lord,” Marcus said. “What of the Breeder?”
“His head will have to wait.”
Cindy withdrew her hand from the water. The images stopped moving, the colours blurred before fading completely. They wanted her head. Her hands felt around her neck. The skin was soft. It would cut easily.
It wouldn’t be difficult for them to find out where she lived; the house was given to her by the lords. She had to get out of here. All she really needed to take with her was the staff and the cauldron. She could be out within a few minutes – head for the City of the Free, lay low in an inn while she figured out what to do.
There was a knock on the door.
Cindy jumped, startled. Her hands shot to her neck, holding it, comforting it. Were they here already? Why would they knock? Surely they didn’t expect her to give it up willingly – it was her head!
She tiptoed up the stairs. She was going to see who it was. Her instincts screamed at her to run or hide, but she couldn’t think of a reason not to check. She wouldn’t open the door, just a quick harmless peep through the window.
Standing at her front door was a short man wearing a dark hooded cloak that covered most of his face. Luckily, this person had a distinguishable feature sticking out – an extremely long moustache, bushy and curled at both ends.
It was Derrick Mankush, her Superior Guardian.
In a state of curiosity, Cindy walked up to the door and almost opened it. She paused with her hand resting on the door handle. What was he doing here?
She never liked him much, and he had never come around visiting before. It was too much of a coincidence for him to be here. Cindy quietly headed for the basement where she kept her staff. Maybe she was overreacting; maybe he would leave if she didn’t answer the door, but if he were here with the Le Fays...
He was still there when she returned armed with her staff. But he wasn’t alone. There were two men in long hooded cloaks standing beside him. Cindy knelt by the door and pressed her ear against it.
“Any sign of her?” Derrick asked.
The men shook their heads. “Marcus is at the back with Joe and James,” one said.
“You know the plan,” Derrick said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Cindy backed away from the door, her chest suddenly thumping. It was too late to run. They had both exits covered. Her house wasn’t big enough to hide in, though her eyes did briefly rest on the sofa in her living room. No, that was stupid. She couldn’t hope to battle them successfully either – there were six of them.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. She was the best witch she knew. She always thought something would come of her. Now her head was going to be stuck on someone’s wall.
Cindy stepped into her living room. She wasn’t ready to die. She wondered... with the element of surprise on her side, maybe she could beat them. It was only against five really. Derrick didn’t count. He was a buffoon if ever she saw one.
How he became a Guardian was a mystery to her. The idiot was constantly doing things that made no sense. He gave her plenty of unsolicited advice, none of which made any sense. Thought himself a genius, thought he was better than her, even said as much.
She would show him.
There was a loud cracking noise followed by another. Both doors had just been broken. She could hear footsteps moving in the house. Some were going upstairs. Or were they going down? The cauldron was in the basement...
Cindy held her breath and filled her staff with magic as she waited. Any moment now, and someone would come into the living room. Her only hope was to catch them unaware.
Three of them stepped in through the door together, Derrick in the middle. All had their staffs out, but they hung loosely by their sides. They weren’t expecting to have to use them. They stared at her dumbly.
Cindy thrust her staff toward them, releasing the magic with as much strength as she could muster. She caught them squarely. The force lifted them off the ground and they crashed into the wall behind them.
Derrick’s eyes rolled as he came to ground. He lay there unflinching. The other two were made of sterner stuff. They got up shakily. But it mattered not. They no longer had their staffs. She hit them again as they reached for them. This time, they stayed where they fell, unmoving in a crumpled heap.
Cindy filled her staff with magic, expecting Marcus and the others to burst into the room. If they hadn’t seen the three being disposed of, they certainly heard it.
She was wrong and right.
They didn’t burst into the room.
They sent something after her.
She felt it before she saw it. A chilly breeze brushed up against her a second before it came crashing into the living room. Cindy knew what it was. The one second warning was plenty. She jumped over the sofa and crouched behind it. The magic from her staff flowed out, surrounding her, protecting her.
It was as if a tornado born within the room, intent upon escape but unable to, decided instead to ravage everything in its little prison. Books, paintings hung on the walls, her small table, chairs and even part of the sofa was dragged in before it knocked everything aside, smashing and shattering.
But her magic held. She stood up a little groggily and readied her staff as she heard the rush of feet. Two of them came into the room while Marcus stood by the door.
She could handle two. As one brought his staff down on her she blocked it, spun around him and hit him on the back before she slid sideways to avoid the other’s staff. She had him down too as she hit him on his knee and when he dropped, she hit him on the head.
She had her staff ready and pointed at Marcus. But he didn’t come forward. He remained at
the door with his staff raised, surveying the unconscious men around him.
“I’m impressed,” he said after a while.
“Thank you.” She gave him her best smile.
“I was led to believe you were... ah, what’s the word?”
“Useless? Ditsy? Just a pretty face?” Cindy volunteered.
A half-smile formed across his lips and he gave her a nod. “What happens now?”
“We can duel,” Cindy said, knowing full well if that was something he was keen on, he wouldn’t need an invitation. “Or, you can leave.”
“I can’t do that. I need a head.”
“There’s five lying on the floor. Take your pick,” she said, trying her hand at being cold.
Marcus chuckled. “Ok,” he said. “How do we do this?”
“You walk out slowly, facing me as you leave and keep walking for a mile. Wait until sunset before you return.”
“Why should I go? Why don’t you leave?”
“Because...” Because she had a few things to take. Like the cauldron. But she couldn’t tell him that. “I would like to have a few words with my superior,” Cindy said. “Last few words,” she added. “I do hope you’re not too fussy about whose head you have?” she asked innocently.
Marcus studied her a moment before he smiled. Facing her, he curtsied far too formally before he backed out of the house. Cindy followed him to the door and waited. Once he was out of sight she ran down to the basement, picked up the first bag she could find and, with a few well placed whacks, enlarged it enough to fit in the cauldron.
With staff in one hand and the bag in the other, Cindy hurriedly left through the back door.
Chapter 27
The man filled the glass bowl with water and placed the burning embers on top. He kneeled and held the pipe out. Lord Dragunov took a puff. It tasted good. He signalled the man to leave. In the courtyard below, his men trained the recruits. His new army, funded by him, was progressing well.
The door burst open and in walked Marcus, dragging with him a wretched-looking man, shrivelling and sobbing. It wasn’t what he was expecting. “That doesn’t look like her head.”
“She escaped, my lo-”
“Escaped?” Lord Dragunov interrupted. “You can’t kill a boy, can’t even kill a girl. What can you do?”
He wanted him to answer, to say something, anything. But Marcus didn’t. He hung his head in shame. Lord Dragunov took a puff off his pipe. He supposed that was what he could do – remain silent when he was supposed to. The man he had dragged in crouched on the floor near Marcus’s feet.
“What is that thing?”
“This is Derrick, my lord, the Other Sider’s Superior Guardian.”
“And why have you brought him here, in my presence?” Lord Dragunov asked disdainfully.
He didn’t like Guardians much. Anyone could be one. Commoners, women – there was no class barrier.
“It is because of him she escaped,” Marcus said.
“No, my lord,” Derrick whimpered, “I-”
“He knocked on her door, gave her warning, led us into a trap.”
“You did WHAT?”
“My lord, I thought I could lure her out.” Derrick’s voice shook as he spoke.
“He misled me further, said she was nothing to worry about. Didn’t mention she passed every scenario as a trainee, didn’t mention she could jump,” Marcus fumed.
“She can jump?”
“Yes, my lord – an almost unheard of skill.”
That was a surprise. The ability to jump was a rarity. A useless skill considering there was nowhere to jump to – every house and every street had anti-jump charms protecting them. But it was an impressive skill nonetheless.
Derrick climbed onto his knees, his head down. Lord Dragunov knew the position. He was going to beg for mercy. Commoners were pathetic. They had no pride, no dignity, no self-respect.
He was supposed to have Cindy’s head on his wall. She wasn’t much in terms of a trophy, but people would remember her as the one who found the Breeder. It was something. This pitiable creature in front of him was a nothing. Although, he did have a very interesting moustache...
“I still need a head,” Lord Dragunov said.
Marcus pulled his staff out and spun it once in his hand before he struck the still kneeling Derrick. No sound escaped his lips as the staff sliced through his neck. For a moment, it seemed as if he had missed. Nothing happened. And then, Derrick’s head slid off.
The moustache didn’t look as good on the dead man. He would have to get someone to work on it, perhaps enhance it some.
“I will have my men keep an eye out for the girl. She will not escape again, my lord,” Marcus said.
“You will not be given a third chance,” Lord Dragunov warned. She was becoming more than a nuisance. He had a feeling if he didn’t have her dealt with soon, she could end up undermining him in some way. “What of the boy?”
“There is good news, my lord. Three days from now, the boy will head into town to visit a seer. I could have his head-”
“Why is he visiting a seer?”
“He feels pain after every dream. I understand that is unnatural? They believe the seer can explain this,” Marcus said. “They also hope for more information about the beast.”
Lord Dragunov had never properly seen the thing that had killed the Zarlocks. It always came to him shrouded in mist and darkness. Even so, glowing eyes, huge head, sharp teeth, claws – the description didn’t seem a likely fit. Maybe it was one of its creatures.
Maybe curiosity was getting the better of him. But he wanted to know why the Zarlocks had chosen the boy. The seer could help answer that question. Or, he could have the head of the first ever Breeder with magic on his wall.
It was a tough decision to make.
“Leave the Breeder for now.”
He was a lord, he would have both. There would be plenty time for the Breeder’s head later.
Chapter 28
“Here.” Jenna pulled out a piece of folded cloth from her bag. “Put it on.”
Tom took it off her and held it open. It was a cloak, black with golden borders and a lion’s head adorned on the back. It seemed familiar. He looked up to see her watching him carefully.
“It’s just a cloak. It’ll keep wandering eyes off you.”
Keep wandering eyes off him; the words repeated in his mind. Could it be? “Is it an invisibility cloak?”
“A what?”
“The cloak, does it make me invisible?” Tom asked.
“Of course it doesn’t,” Gemma said. “Don’t be silly.”
“What does it do then?”
“The hood,” Gemma said, holding the hood out in case he missed it or didn’t know what it was, “covers your face. And it’s a Le Fay cloak so-”
“I’m not wearing it.”
Tom held the cloak out at arm’s length, fearing an irrational contagion. He knew why it looked familiar now. Malcolm had worn one the night they attacked him. He dropped the cloak on the floor and backed away from it.
Jenna picked it up. “It’s a brilliant disguise,” she said.
Tom didn’t care. “I’m not wearing it,” he repeated.
“Why?”
“Because-” He couldn’t think of a valid reason. He shook his head and took another step back. “No.”
“Because no?” the twins asked as they took a step towards him.
His back was against the wall. The twins were right in front, walking towards him with cloak in hand, blocking his path. He had nowhere to go, but it was OK, he told himself. They couldn’t force him to put it on.
He was sort of right.
They couldn’t force him to put it on. But they could forcibly put it on him. When the twins grabbed his arms and he tried resisting and found he couldn’t, that they were so much stronger than he, it was quite embarrassing and after that he decided it better to let them get on with it.
“Quick recap before we go?” Jenna
asked.
The twins had come to prepare him for what lay beyond the school gates. It wasn’t much different to the Other Side. They had roads, buildings, and instead of cars, horse-drawn carriages. Witches and wizards didn’t dress too differently from Wanderers – their clothes were similar, just not as colourful, or fitting.
The big differences were in the smaller things like money. Wizards paid in dust made from gold and silver.
“I’m good to go.” He gave them the thumbs up. The twins stared at them before they looked at each other and shrugged. Tom put them away. “I don’t need a recap...”
They climbed down the tree house and walked up the hill. The twins wore plain brown cloaks. He hated to admit it, but the Le Fay cloak did look better than theirs. Saafir was already at the school gate waiting for them, leaning against one of the pillars, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore a green cloak with a silver border.
Gemma pointed at it. “What are you wearing?”
“A Zarlock cloak,” he said innocently, before turning to look at Tom in horror. “What are you wearing?”
“A Le Fay cloak,” Gemma answered. “To blend in,” she added authoritatively. “Why are you wearing a Zarlock cloak?”
“Because-”
“Oh god,” Jenna interrupted. “Here we go again with the ‘because’. Take it off and let’s go,” she demanded.
The twins walked past the two pillars and onto the stone road that was tunnelled by the branches above. Tom felt a little sorry for Saafir as he stood there was his mouth slightly open, staring after them.
They were almost at the end of the tunnelled road before Saafir reluctantly took it off. As he put it in his bag, Tom noticed the emblem on the back. It was the head of a tiger, white with black stripes, its mouth open, showing teeth long, sharp and glistening.
They were travelling by carriage. Apparently, there was a station at the mouth of the tunnel. Tom didn’t recall seeing one, and he knew why as he stepped out from under the branches. It wasn’t much to look at.
The Other Side (Thomas Skinner Book 1) Page 14