Within seconds, Kristian began to recount; he gave Jonathon a step-by-step report of how the last month had been largely uneventful. It wasn’t long before he was talking about the park, Leandra and the chilling and fateful events that followed. Jonathon’s face screwed up as he listened carefully to Kristian’s account, becoming consumed in deep thought.
Kristian carried on, “Well, Leandra said she was a friend, I felt like I could trust her. She couldn’t really help and before I knew it she was gone. Even though I trusted her, I didn’t know why! Though I did know I needed to find out if what she was saying was true, so the only thing I could think of doing was going to Das Ferkel, a tavern Leandra had told me about, and questioning the barman,” Kristian carried on with his recollection of that evening, his thoughts flowing more easily now. He told how he had interrogated the barman and that nothing seemed out of place.
A few minutes had passed and Kristian only stopped talking to take breath. He had explained about the attack in the apartment, his capture and moved on to describe the exchange he had with Cable and Canola.
“You see, it’s Leceth. They told me it was Leceth who killed Oliver. And he was going to do the same to me! He was going to put my heart in a jar; into this,” as Kristian spoke he unveiled what he had stored in his bag. Pulling out the urn from his bag he placed it into Jonathon’s hands. Jonathon’s jaw dropped, he was completely flabbergasted! Not so much at Kristian’s assertions but by what now lay in his hands.
“You’ve any idea what this thing is?” Kristian asked.
Shaking his head, Jonathon looked up into the young man’s eyes.
“No! I don’t know what it is, though it’s clearly an urn. Not sure what its purpose is though, I haven’t seen any urn like this before. The markings look odd.” He wasn’t exactly lying; it was true he had never seen the urn before, nor had he any idea of its purpose. But something about it was familiar to him, something about it was exactly what Jonathon was hoping to find.
Kristian could tell by Jonathon’s expression that he was being economical with the truth, but to pursue that line of questioning would be pointless. The fact that he was sure Jonathon was hiding something was knowledge he knew he would have to keep close to his chest, for now!
“So do you want me to go on?”
“Of course, of course,” Jonathon said his eyes moving off the urn and back to Kristian. Kristian recounted the intricate events of his escape from his prison, he now found himself talking about what he had heard Canola, Cable and Volesh saying on the other side of the door which had led to his freedom.
“Well I overheard them talking, they were saying that Tom, the Dark Phoenix was also working for Leceth. He’s in La something, La Cumbrecita! Yeah, that’s right, La Cumbrecita, wherever that is.”
Jonathon rose to his feet, gazing into the middle distance.
“Come again? When did you hear that?” Jonathon sounded a little tense; moving to the desk, he placed the urn on it.
“Well, this morning,” Kristian replied.
“Excellent. There’s only one La Cumbrecita that I can think of. It’s in Argentina Nice place to hide. We must tell the others,” Jonathon immediately headed for the door.
“The others?” Kristian enquired.
“Yes there are a few people in the main conference room, some of the ones I was going to take with me, to find you!” Jonathon explained opening the door. Kristian walked towards him and Jonathon took a good look at the urn.
He began to think about what lay ahead of him, Brendan must be told about the urn, he thought, before anyone else.
Before leaving he closed the door and held Kristian back. “I’m going to ask you to do something for me, I can’t tell you why, not at the moment but I need you to trust me. Do you think you can do that?”
Kristian remembered the promises Jonathon had made to him in the past: You’re free to go to university, free to get a career. He even thought about Jonathon’s face when he looked at the urn. Trusting Jonathon was becoming increasingly difficult for Kristian, harder than he had thought possible, so he kept silent.
“Kristian, I’m not ordering you to do this, and I know I have not always been true to my word. But this is more important than you or me, or even them out there. I can’t tell you why, maybe in time I can find the words. But I do need you to do this for me, more than anything.”
Kristian carefully mulled over Jonathon’s words. He understood why trusting Jonathon was so difficult at the moment, but he realised, deep down in his heart, that Jonathon was a good man, true to his beliefs and when he asked you do something like this, there was no real choice; there was only compliance. It had to be done.
“Okay, what is it?”
“The urn, I need you to drop it from your account. When you tell the others I need you to tell them about the ritual, tell them everything, just do not tell them you took or saw the urn.”
Kristian squinted, scanning Jonathon’s face looking for some truth. Fighting the urge to ask why, as he knew Jonathon would not answer, he could do nothing but agree to his request. Not understanding why, he said, “Okay, you have my word. But one day you owe me the truth, you owe me an explanation. And to be frank you ask too much of me.”
“I know I do. But it’s because I trust you. You are a good boy and one day you will be a great man. Far from here, far from all this, I promise.”
Jonathon stretched out his hand and Kristian gripped it tightly and began to shake it. The pair then quickly exited the room making their way to the main conference room. On entering everyone in the room looked towards the doors, each one had a slightly different expression of complete surprise. The gang, Kieran, Sam, Rachel and Jean, all came rushing over, each letting out little sighs of his name. As they hugged him deeply, Kristian peered over the top of the group to see who else was there. At the far end were Peter, Andrew, Roman and Susan all standing looking in his direction all smiling all mouthing ‘Okays.’
As the group hug broke up they descended into frivolous chit-chat about the past day. Kristian, overwhelmed by the questioning, didn’t know whose to respond to first. Jonathon quickly ushered them all towards seats and it wasn’t long before he ordered Kristian to divulge his experience.
Much like the explanation he had given to Jonathon alone, Kristian described the incident in detail, step by step, but leaving out one crucial piece of information: the urn. He elaborated on the specifics of what Canola had told him about Leceth, the ritual and Oliver. Rachel gasped as he explained and shocked faces were worn by most of them. It wasn’t long before he mentioned the location of the Dark Phoenix to which a few gasped, one cheered and Sam looked a little annoyed. Finishing with his explanation of how he had escaped, with the detail of how he callously disposed of his enemies, Kristian finally came to the end. Explaining it twice wasn’t exactly what he had imagined himself doing but the second time was a lot easier than the first.
“Well, if we know where Tom is we should tell Zhing,” Rachel said.
“She is right. But we have more pressing concerns on our hands.” As Peter spoke, his voice calm, all eyes looked at him; only a few understood what he was implying.
“Yeah, I thought the same. They most probably will send someone over here within days, maybe hours,” said Jonathon.
“Sounds fun,” Andrew said rising to his feet. “One shall prepare for them.”
“Good, first I want you to contact Yi-Mao. Update him he might be able to cut his trip short, though I very much doubt it. Rachel, I want you to contact Zhing, find her and take her to La Cumbrecita, Argentina. Peter help Andrew prepare for our guests. Susan take Kristian downstairs and give him a check-up. The rest of you, get some sleep,” Jonathon stood up as he delegated, his voice stern.
The room quickly dispersed with Roman the first to leave, his face showing his inner disappointment of being completely sidetracked in the delegation of tasks. Within seconds Kristian found himself standing looking around with Sam, Jean Kieran and Susan
for company.
“Hey, if you go on ahead I’ll be down in bit,” Kristian said looking at Susan.
Agreeing to his request Susan quickly left the room; as soon as she was gone Kristian turned to the others. “What was that? Prepare for whom?”
Sam and Jean were as confused about the conversation as Kristian. Kieran, though, was quick to answer. “They have gone to prepare for the Council.”
The three men gazed at Kieran; his words did little to elevate their bewilderment. Recognising their dumbfounded expressions Kieran continued explaining. “Well, Jonathon and the others believe that the Council will send an envoy here. Because of what you did,” as he spoke he looked at Kristian.
“What I did. You mean my escape?” asked Kristian, his face a little panic-stricken.
“Sorry to say this. Yes. I wouldn’t worry, to me it sounded like you acted in self-defence. But you need to realise that we live in a world that exists because of the Treaty and that Treaty has certain rules. Ones that clearly state that killing members of either side is permitted only when there is no other choice, only when it is clear that it is the last action possible. Even the deaths of these low level thugs will stir up some kind of investigation on the Council’s side. One that will no doubt bring someone to our door,” as Kieran spoke, each word seemed to change Kristian’s face, making it more afraid, more panic-ridden.
“They were going to kill me. I had no other choice,” Kristian defended.
“I believe you, so does everyone here. I wouldn’t worry, it’s more formality than anything. The council will need to look like they are doing something. You acted in self-defence, they have no grounds for anything,” said Kieran as his arm collided with Kristian’s shoulder sending a friendly jolt his way. “Come on, I’ll take you down to the doc.”
“Sure. Hey you two, you going to bed? I’m not tired, fancy a chat when I’m done?” Kristian said in the direction of Sam and Jean. Each of them replied with a simple “Yes, see you later.” Leaving the room Kieran and Kristian walked towards the Andromeda-Aceso-marked lift.
“Again, don’t panic. We have all got your back. Especially Jonathon,” said Kieran. Though his words were meant to alleviate his anxiety it did more to hinder than to help. Did Jonathon really have his back? What was with all the secrets? Could he really trust him? His mind began to wander uncontrollably; he thought for an instant of telling Kieran the whole truth but he quickly persuaded himself otherwise.
“So how are you? I hear you can’t stop doing spells?” Kristian said just a few steps from the lift.
“Where did you hear that?” Kieran replied. “Well, it’s been hard. Being part of the Trinity is like, well, it’s hard to explain. I have this energy, and spells that I used to find hard to do, that needed complex incantations to complete last year, now just thinking of them makes it happen. Control is something I have a whole new understanding of now,” he chuckled to himself as they reached the lift. “Well, I shall see you later, we will be in the television room in the dormitory.”
Kristian entered the lift and as the doors closed he gazed through the space looking at Kieran, feeling relieved that he had seen him again, that he had seen them all again.
…
- Chapter Thirteen -
The Ultimatum
It was not long after the sun had set that three identical black cars – Jaguars, with bulletproof tinted windows – pulled up in front of the main entrance of the Order. The rear passenger door of the lead car opened and gracefully from it stepped the long, pale, beautiful legs of Isobel O’Hara. She elegantly glided up the steps to the entrance, closely followed by three tall gentlemen who were clearly her bodyguards. The doors on the second car opened, almost swinging clean off their hinges. Getting out was not easy for the seven foot seven mountain of a monster that was Môn’ark Toral, the warrior general of the Vinji clans. He cleared the steps with just two long strides of his enormous legs.
It was early evening and people were still walking by on the street below; this fact did not seem to persuade Môn’ark to changing his appearance, he had never been one for disguising his looks from the world. He was large and reptilian, much like Karnel in appearance but taller and he had a long scar on his face from left to right, crossing his eye and finishing at the top of his neck. He followed Isobel through the oak doors but unlike her, he did not carry the company of bodyguards. He had only one accomplice, a small Vinji who slithered behind him, his head facing the ground, his small feet moving quickly to keep up with the beast ahead of him.
The door to the third Jag opened and from it a tall man dressed in a black jacket that flowed out behind him emerged. The jacket looked as though it was not made from any known kind of material but was simply made from darkness itself. The man under the jacket seemed to be made of the same shadowy colour; only his eyes were distinguishable, a deep yellow with red spiky pupils. Followed by no one this figure answered to the name of ‘Ghost’ and he walked elegantly and effortlessly up the stone steps into the Order’s headquarters.
…
Peter and Andrew stood at the main reception desk in the entrance surrounded by several security guards and Stanley. They waited in anticipation for the unannounced but expected visitors to walk through the doors and demand an audience. The sun had set just under an hour ago and the rain had relented. Peter knew that it would not be long before the Council’s envoys arrived.
“Right, give it another ten minutes and I bet you a week’s holiday that they will come through that door,” pointing towards the entrance doors, Peter said to Andrew.
“Okay, I shall agree to your bet, but only if you can tell me exactly who you think it will be,” replied Andrew.
“Well, it shall be Isobel for sure. Now, an angry Isobel, umm! That would be interesting to see. They will also send some of their more unattractive members so I’m guessing Môn’ark Toral.”
“All right, so just the two of them then?” said Andrew as though he knew who was about to enter.
“Well, they will have bodyguards of course. They usually come in threes, but I doubt Leceth will show his face. Well, if you get it right I shall give you two weeks of my holiday!” said Peter smugly.
“Okay,” replied Andrew, “it will be Isobel and Môn’ark.”
Peter interrupted Andrew and pointed out that he was not allowed to copy him.
“Well, if you let me finish Peter, I was going to say Isobel, Môn’ark and Ghost. And their bodyguards of course although Ghost won’t have any.”
Peter gave an inquisitive glance at Andrew wondering if he had cheated somehow. However, before he could protest, the doors swung open and in walked Isobel. Andrew immediately walked around the desk and moved to greet her.
“Isobel, welcome,” said Andrew and Peter simultaneously copied.
“So, we were expected then?” Isobel spoke, her words as cold as her skin. Peter glanced over her shoulder to see who would be next to enter. To his glee, in walked Môn’ark just after Isobel’s bodyguards cleared the threshold.
“Greetings, High General Toral, I am Andrew Gilmore. Welcome to the Order,” as Andrew spoke his eyes took in the daunting size of the being in front of him.
“Save your pleasantries, human. You know why we are here,” Môn’ark’s voice was so deep it filled the air like a heavy fog.
“Indeed, and Jonathon is waiting for you to discuss the matter,” said Andrew as politely as he could. Peter kept his eyes fixed on the door, hoping that no one else would enter. A small Vinji entered quickly, scuttling across the lobby and to Peter’s disappointment he was followed by the shadowy figure of Ghost.
“Greetings, Ghost, it is a pleasure to meet you,” said Andrew, the tone of his voice slightly high to indicate his delight. It was partly aimed at Peter whose face had dropped. “Is this all of you?” he said, in the same tone.
“YES,” barked Môn’ark, his temper evident.
“Well, if you would just like to make your way through to the gallery, there
,” pointing towards the door next to the elevator. “Jonathon is inside and he awaits your company to begin this meeting,” as he spoke, Andrew allowed each of the guests to walk past him as they made their way towards the gallery.
The Order’s security guards followed closely behind the Council’s envoys. Andrew slowly paced towards the door as Peter took up the place by his side. “You swine!” Peter exclaimed. “You knew, somehow you knew. It doesn’t count, the deal is off – you used magic,” Peter’s voice was filled with cynicism and annoyance.
…
Jean, Sam and Kieran had been sitting in the television room for over an hour, waiting for Kristian to return from the medical wing. The TV was switched on and was showing a twenty-four-hour news programme. None of them were really watching it; it was for background noise only. All three jumped as the creaky wooden door arced open. Entering the room to three sighs, Rachel instantly realised that they were expecting Kristian.
“Sorry to disappoint you, guys,” she said as she slumped down onto one of the dark leather sofas.
“Nah, it’s all right. We are just waiting to have a proper chat with Kristian, that’s all. So, what happened with you?” said Kieran.
“Long story,” Rachel replied. “Well, I say long, what I mean is not that interesting.”
Her tone was coy and they all knew that what she was about to tell them was going to be far from boring. “Well, before I left the office, Peter and I cross-referenced all the Council-owned buildings in La Cumbrecita and by luck or providence we found a property owned by none other than Leceth. Coincidence? I think not. So I immediately contacted Zhing and updated her on the whole Kristian–Berlin situation, she told me where she was; I went to her then took her to La Cumbrecita. She told me to come back to London and that she would check in with the Order once she had finished recon. So, I came back, everyone is in a meeting so you are the first people I have seen. And that’s it, not interesting really,” after finishing this long speech, she rose to her feet, walked towards the corner table, and flicked the switch on the kettle, which rested there.
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