Guardians Inc.:Thundersword (Guardians Incorporated #2)

by Julian Rosado-Machain

  The Doctor sighed. “Very well, but I won't allow him to take his great ancestor's sword with him. His great grandfather, Orlando Della Francesca, killed Vincentia, Isaurus’s sister with that weapon, and he's the Namtarii's leader. It would be an unnecessary provocation.”

  “I’ll tell him, Doctor,” Thomas said, standing up. “You don't have to be the bad guy all the time.”

  The Doctor smiled. “Get your team ready. We leave in three hours.”

  “Doctor?”

  “Yes, Thomas?”

  “I don’t understand why the Clans put so much importance on Mar-Safi? If I hadn’t interfered she would have died already. Do they want her dead?”

  “No,” the Doctor responded. “The problem with Mar-Safi is that she is the last of her Clan when she shouldn’t be.” The Doctor typed into his keyboard and the screens behind him showed images of the Oryx, her anchor species, with locations and statistics around the world. Thomas had seen Oryx in captivity in the San Diego Zoo. They were beautiful antelopes; their great scimitar-like horns slightly curved were their most prominent feature, and the main reason they had been hunted close to extinction.

  “The Oryx were almost extinct, but we stopped that from happening. We passed protection laws and fielded expeditions to capture healthy specimens. We set up herds in protected areas and distributed them to zoos around the world, and many breeding programs have been successful. There are thousands of Oryxes living in captivity, way more than those needed to support her. There should be at least a couple of dozen more of her clan.”

  “Well,” Thomas said, “she’s…alone.”

  The Doctor smiled. “Fauns don’t need sexual reproduction. They are Magical beings. The Magic given by the Life Elemental Pillars creates and sustains them. We don’t know how it works, and they are not telling. The point is that even though we’ve done everything to save Mar-Safi’s Clan, we are failing. Nobody knows why. I don’t think she even knows why, and that’s the problem. Her clan fell under our protection and we aren’t helping at all. What can the other clans expect from us?”

  Thomas finally realized why Mar-Safi was so important to Hoormel Kian; he was actually using her as a red flag, an example of just how impotent the Guardians were in helping Fauns. It was an incredibly powerful political weapon, and it would become even more powerful once Mar-Safi died.

  “You understand now?” the Doctor asked.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Thomas,” the Doctor said, “we urgently need a victory.”

  Thomas nodded before leaving the office thinking over all he had learned. He had just begun to accept the idea that he was a Cypher when his horizon of Guardians Inc., the Fauns, and the world had broadened.

  So many variables, so many secrets and plans within plans, so many factions, conflicts and interests centered on finding the Book of Concord and on the Cypher searching for it.

  Centered on him…and Gramps.

  Was Gramps feeling the pressure from all sides as Thomas did? He was just aligned with the Azure Guards, the Warmaster, and by extension with the Fauns. He probably didn’t have to deal with the human side of the conflict.

  Thomas involuntarily clenched a fist thinking that it was probably easier for his grandfather and, for a moment, Thomas actually resented him.

  House Della Francesca

  “Come in,” Tony said.

  Thomas opened the door into the suite he had secured for Tony on the second floor of the Mansion. Tony’s suite was a little smaller than Thomas’s, but it still rivaled any suite in a luxury hotel—two separate rooms, a large living room with a huge TV screen, enough sofas to hold a small party, and a full-sized kitchen and dining room.

  Tony had already taken ownership of his suite and transformed it to suit his tastes. On one side of the living room, he had brought in three pinball machines and a video game console fit for an old money arcade. One wall was fully devoted to the New York Yankees, including a display case with signed balls and players’ cards. The crowning jewel was a jersey encased in glass signed by Babe Ruth himself.

  “My grandfather got it as a gift,” Tony said as Thomas admired the jersey. “He helped ‘The Bambino’ with some playful gremlins, which threw off his average in Yankee Stadium.”

  “Expensive?” Thomas asked.

  “Ha!” Tony laughed. “It practically belongs in a museum. And one day we'll put it in one.” He softly touched the glass. “But not yet.”

  “The Doctor thinks it might not be a good idea for you to come with us,” Thomas finally said.

  “Is it because of what the Dealmaker said?” Tony asked.

  “In part,” Thomas replied. “It was hard stuff.”

  Tony sighed. “Let me show you something.” He led Thomas to one of the back rooms. Tony had transformed it into a small museum. “The Della Francesca Room,” he said.

  Tapestries and display cases full of artifacts filled the room, some of them dating back to the Renaissance era. Tony stopped in front of an oil painting of a man, who was holding a sword. He was richly dressed, and his shoulders were covered with a wolf's skin. On the left side of the painting, a sheep herder was moving a herd of white sheep toward a grand temple that dominated the center of the painting. “The Wolf of Rimini,” Tony said. “This is one of the hidden paintings from the first of my ancestors to be a Guardian, Piero Della Francesca.”

  “Is Piero the man in the painting?” Thomas asked. He already knew that Piero had been a great painter of the Renaissance and tutored by the last Cypher to find the Book of Concord.

  “No,” Tony said. “This man is Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, Lord of Rimini and patron of Piero. That...” he said, pointing at the building, “is the Templo Malatestiano, the Cathedral of Rimini. Sigismondo wasn't that much of a religious man, but he rebuilt the cathedral to try and make peace with the Pope.”

  “I guess that didn't work,” Thomas said. The signs Piero hid in the painting suddenly became clear with Tony's information. The sheep herder represented the Pope, and the lambs were the army the Pope had sent to Malatesta. Sigismondo was aiming the sword at the sheep, ready to defend his domain from the Pope’s army.

  Tony said, “Malatesta lost almost everything against the Pope. Only Rimini remained, and not for very long.”

  Tony then told Thomas stories of his other ancestors who had disappeared from mainstream history, because each and every one of them became a Guardian after Piero.

  The Della Francesca line had been incredibly diverse in their interests, and it gave the Guardians artists, poets, musicians, explorers and above all, scientists. With a great family and extensive properties in Milan, and their Matriarch being one of the heads of the Guardians Council of Twilight, the House Della Francesca seemed poised to become a powerful shaper of the future world.

  “Until the Namtarii came to Milan in 1629,” Tony said bitterly. “They brought the plague with them and killed a quarter of a million people in two years—more than fifty percent of the population and all but one of my ancestors, Bianca Della Francesca.” Tony pointed at a shining armor encased in glass. “She was the first of my family to hunt the Namtarii down, and the first to kill one just outside Tyrol in 1633.”

  “But we had the Book of Concord already,” Thomas said. “Didn’t it show what the Namtarii would be doing? Didn’t it give your family time to evacuate before the city was attacked?” The Book of Concord showed the Guardians the future history of humanity, and if they already had it, why didn't they take measures against the Namtarii?

  Tony smiled. “I guess that's not how it works. I also think that the Namtarii are difficult to keep track of, even with the Book of Concord. In any event, it wouldn't have mattered if my family fled. The Namtarii didn't go to Milan to attack the city; they went there after my family.”

  “Why?” Thomas asked.

  “I don't know. We’ve actually never known why, but I know this…” Tony said, opening the glass case and pulling the sword from the scabbard attached t
o the armor's belt. “This is Bianca's Vendetta.” He showed the sword to Thomas, the silvery edge gleaming in the light. It wasn't as long or broad as the sword he was practicing with; it was more slender, elegant, and delicate, a true Lady of the Court weapon that almost looked flimsy in Tony's hand.

  “It’s an arming sword. It’s been in my family since before Piero and has the names of our fallen enemies,” Tony said, lifting the sword to his forehead. Thomas read the names of the fallen Namtarii finely etched on its blade. “Every time my family takes it out from its case a Namtarii dies.” Tony weighed the weapon on his hand, “It has taken seventeen of them already, and its work is not done yet.”

  Thomas kept quiet, unsure of what to say. He had built up the courage to tell Tony to leave the sword with them on this trip, but now that he knew Tony’s family and their history with the Namtarii, he weighed against the idea of Tony accompanying them in this mission.

  Tony replaced the weapon in its scabbard and closed the glass case with reverence. “No, its work is not yet done,” Tony said with a sigh, “but I won't add a name to it…not on this trip.” Tony walked toward an ornate long case and pulled open the doors. It was a triptych painting from the Renaissance, depicting the faces and names of the sixty Namtarii. Thomas was appalled to see that some of the expertly painted pictures had been crossed over with something that looked like blood while others seemed scratched away with the edge of a sword. “Our collection of enemies…so to speak,” Tony told him.

  Thomas leaned closer to the painting. “Is this blood?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is. My family blood,” Tony said. “The ones with blood over them are the Namtarii my family has dispatched. The ones crossed with the sword are the Namtarii we know are dead but that were killed by someone else, and the others are the Namtarii that are still alive. These three are still roaming free.” He pointed at three pictures.

  Thomas read the very strange names, and some of them had also a title associated to their name. “Sekhet,” he read aloud. “The Hand of Darkness…”

  “She’s probably the most dangerous of the three,” Tony said. “She’s somewhere in China, manipulating influenza viruses, and every year she concocts new ways to attack us.”

  “This guy Abbaas, sounds formidable too,” Thomas said, pointing at a Namtarii depicted in rich Arabic clothing.

  “The Crimson Mist,” Tony said, looking at Abbaas. “He uses Dengue and Ebola. He likes to see blood in his victims.”

  Thomas shuddered. Tony spoke of the Namtarii as he would of his schoolmate pictures in a yearbook, but each one of the men and women depicted in the triptych was a killer.

  “Check the others and try to remember them,” Tony said casually. “You’re about to meet them.”

  Thomas checked the other Namtarii, the ones under Guardian supervision. They looked…distinguished. The women were beautiful and the men were elegant, even regal in their portraits. Tsikiko, Uchechi, Yaakov, Shahrukh, Lejka, Thawaret—the names felt ancient. One of them, Obadiah—The Last Smile—even looked like a portrait from an African tribal king. “They all seem normal to me,” Thomas said.

  “That makes them more dangerous, and it was one of the reasons they were able to enter my family’s home. They came in as friends and massacred them all: men, women, and children. They unleashed all their hatred on the Della Francesca household. And after all this time nobody has learned why.”

  So that was the reason the Doctor didn't want to take Tony to the Keep. As a Della Francesca he was obligated by Bianca's Vendetta to try and kill them all.

  “And you're cool with just talking with them?” Thomas asked after a couple of seconds. He had to make sure that Tony wouldn't do anything but talk with the Namtarii.

  Tony lifted his shoulders. “We have a truce, don't we?” he said. “The Della Francesca might be Namtarii hunters, but we are also Guardians, Thomas,” he said. “And duty always comes first. Want a coffee or a soda? Perhaps some Quiche Lorraine I bought in Forbach?” Tony asked, heading toward the kitchen. “It is a very French city, but it is right across from the German border, and the Germans really know how to make Quiche Lorraine.”

  Relief washed over Thomas; he wouldn’t need to tell Tony to leave his family’s sword. “I’m not hungry, but thank you,” Thomas said. “And thank you for showing me your family legacy.”

  “Family is everything, Thomas.” Tony smiled. “Where we come from, who we are, and what we leave behind.”

  Sadness suddenly overwhelmed Thomas. For almost two years now, he thought his parents were dead, but now they were out there, somewhere. And Gramps…his heart hurt to think about the fact that his grandfather was on the enemy’s side. He returned Tony’s smile, but without real enthusiasm.

  “We’ll find them,” Tony said, referring to Thomas’s parents. “And Morgan will come around. You’ll see.”

  Thomas only nodded.

  “You know,” Tony said opening a soda can and pouring two glasses. “Dad taught me that we don’t need to be blood-related to become family.” He handed Thomas a soda. “It is through our actions that we realize who are our brothers and sisters.”

  Thomas extended his glass to him. “To family,” he said.

  ***

  “You’re a regular mosquito, aren’t you?” Tony asked the nurse with a smile. He rubbed his arm where the nurse had taken the blood samples.

  The nurse responded with a smile of her own and pressed another vial to Thomas’s arm. Thomas swore he could feel his blood being sucked away by the syringe in his arm. The nurse had already taken two little vials and she was prepping another two. A mosquito would have been content with just enough to eat.

  “We do the tests and blood samples as we go in, and immediately after we come back,” the Doctor explained. “Then we do another full checkup every year.”

  “Each human carries the potential for many genetic syndromes and disorders,” Bolswaithe explained. “The Namtarii can tweak those dormant genes that will develop sickness later. With these tests and screening, we will know if the Namtarii have tampered with us.”

  “And if they did?” Tony asked.

  “It’s a breach in the truce,” the Doctor said, “and we can have the culprit executed.”

  “But killing the Namtarii doesn’t ‘cure’ the disease does it?” Thomas asked.

  “No, it doesn’t, but it serves as a deterrent for them.” Doctor Franco opened an ornate wooden box he had brought to the Medical Ward. “And speaking of deterrents…” he pulled out four amulets of an animal tusk on a leather cord. “These are the Graangu tusks. Given to Guardian, Ibn Batutta, in 1342 to protect him against the Namtarii.” He handed one to each of them.

  “And you, Doctor?” Elise asked as she placed the amulet around her neck.

  The Doctor’s cane glowed softly. “Aesculapius Cane,” he said. “While holding it, I have nothing to fear from them.”

  “You have us for that, Doctor.” Henri entered the office followed by another three grotesques. “We’ll be ready if any of them tries anything.”

  The Doctor gave Tony a questioning glance.

  “Come on, Doc. I know you’ve read my mind already,” Tony said. “But just to be sure…” He lifted his arms and twirled. “I’m not carrying Bianca’s sword. Only my own.” He placed his hands on his twin blades by his belt. “Or do you want me to go unarmed?” he smiled at him.

  The Doctor actually returned the smile. “No, Tony I believe you. We are ready Bolswaithe.”

  “Follow me, please.” Bolswaithe led them through the Mansion’s right corridor. They crossed the first door and entered a room that had six metallic doors, each one with a numeric pad by its side. Bolswaithe approached the second door and entered a code on the pad. The door slid open after the safeties disengaged and opened into a smaller room. Henri and the other three grotesques had to go in one-by-one and transform inside into their smaller statue form for all of them to fit, but even in their usual Guardian statue form the grotesques
occupied a lot of space. Seeing them on top of columns and the Mansion’s roof belittled their size.

  The room looked like an elevator, and once the door had closed, a panel opened on the other side.

  “Hold on, Bolswaithe,” the Doctor said. “I know that you all read what we could disclose to you about the Namtarii and their Keep.”

  “It wasn’t that much,” Tony said. The single page they had received just before assembling had vague descriptions of the place where the Namtarii were kept. There were very explicit instructions on how to talk with them, or rather, what not to talk with them, touch them, or touch anything they had touched with bare hands. They couldn’t make idle conversation, and if they talked, they couldn’t hint at anything from the outside world, especially the date. They couldn’t take anything from the Keep, or take anything with them that could tell the Namtarii their location. They had to leave all things of special value behind.

  They all wore special shoes and gloves. The shoes looked a little oversized and reached mid-calf. After they put them on they pressed a seal, and Thomas felt the air being sucked out from the shoe creating a vacuum that fitted the shoe tightly to his skin. The gloves were also oversized, but when they put them on and pressed the seal, the air was pulled out and the gloves became like a second skin. Henri and his brothers had been sprayed with a special resin that made them impregnable; the resin would dissolve through a chemical shower after they came back from the Keep.

  Tony couldn’t even take his toothpicks with him.

  “It’s for the world’s protection,” the Doctor said. “We are going to the most dangerous place on Earth, and not only because of the Namtarii. The Keep is sitting on top of a 25 Kiloton Thermonuclear device. It will detonate the moment the integrity of the Keep is breached.”

  “A nuclear bomb...” Thomas said. “Isn't that a little extreme?”

  “The Keep has been sealed to the outside world for almost a hundred years. The Council of Twilight decided to keep them completely isolated shortly after the 1918 influenza pandemic. For the most part it is a closed system. Air and water are recycled, and any waste is basically disintegrated and stored underneath the Keep. We are actually their first non-scheduled visitors in almost thirty years when we came asking for help in stopping the Diphtheria pandemic in the former Soviet Union.”