by M J Sherlock
The train pulled out of the station.
'Don’t know.’
Aunt Stella could be fun when she chose. I hoped she would allow Taine to stay too. The journey passed quickly, despite the hard seats and stuffy carriage. Taine had caught up with India and Alex the night before. They’d identified Venator bases in Cardiff and Glasgow and a few other scattered towns. Most would only fit eight people.
‘They haven’t found the main snake pit yet.’
I shuddered. ‘There’s an image. You’ve made my skin crawl as if snakes are already oozing around me, ready to crush me in a boa-constrictor grip.’
Taine winked. ‘That’s what I was going for.’
Pinched dots covered my arms. I hoped the Venator hadn’t slithered their way into my life somewhere like in Aesop’s fable. Where a farmer rescued a snake only for it to recover, bite and kill him. Cheerful thought. I shook myself as the train drew into the station with a squeal of brakes. Excitement bubbled up drowning fear. We were in Paris. PARIS. Woohoo. The doors gave a long whistling sigh before shuddering open with a clanking noise.
We grabbed our backpacks and cases and followed the long line of passengers off the train. The citrus and floral scent of Aunt Stella’s perfume wrapped around me as she hugged me close. The perfume made my eyes water as she kissed each cheek.
'I’m thrilled you’re here. I barely recognise you. So grown up coming to Paris by yourself. Make-up too, quite the trendy teenager.'
'Thanks Aunt Stella.' I squeezed her tight and gave her a quick kiss.
‘Drop the Aunt. You’re making me feel old.’
Pulling back, I tugged Taine forward to meet her. 'This is Taine. Can we find a café and have a chat?'
Stella looked him over as she greeted him. 'There’s something familiar about you...' She tapped her fingers on his arm. 'Ann-Marie and Jonathan are... sorry were, your parents?'
Time seemed to slow. Her words sounded distorted like they were coming from far away.
'I attended your christening and their funeral. How’s Imal keeping these days?'
Taine gawked at her as his questions tumbled out. 'How come I never knew about you?'
'Let’s head to the Boulevard de Magenta. Find a café next to the canal. We might as well get comfortable. I imagine you have lots of questions.'
What an understatement. Stella led us into a quaint restaurant with a view over the water. We chose a wooden table outside, complete with a red parasol to protect us from the fierce sun. I felt hot and sticky in my jeans and wished I had worn shorts. Taine looked as dazed as I felt. Annie had been right. Stella had answers.
We stared unseeing at the menus. A waiter dressed in black and white came over and Stella ordered for us in French. Bottled water with steak and fries for us and a seafood salad and a black coffee for herself. Within a few minutes, he was back with our drinks and Stella slipped him a tip.
Stella described how she became a Guardian. 'As you did, I received a star-shaped orb on my fourteenth birthday.' She held up her hand as I opened and closed my mouth, wordless. 'Yes, I hid it in your kitchen.'
'But how?' I opened tiny packets of salt and poured them on the table making patterns with my finger. I was so angry I couldn’t look at her.
'The reverse of your journey today only I stayed overnight at a hotel. I took a taxi to your home and used the cloak to stay invisible. After letting myself in, I hid the gift under the table.' She sipped her drink.
'Why not give it to me yourself? Why not explain?' I stared up at her as if trying to skewer her with my eyes. She could have saved me so much anguish.
Stella's eyes fell to her hands as she fiddled with her rings. 'After the deaths of Jonathan, Ann-Marie and the others, I swore off the whole Guardian business. I hadn’t wanted to give it to you but visions plagued me. When I stopped sleeping, I gave in.'
'Lack of sleep. That’s all it took? But why didn’t you say something after I disappeared? Until I met Taine, I thought I was going mad. You were so unfair.' My voice rose in pitch as I shredded my checked red and white napkin into tiny pieces.
'I’m sorry, I was petrified. I felt guilty about giving it to you at all. When you disappeared...' Stella shuddered. 'My worst nightmares seemed to be coming true.’ She fumbled in her handbag for a tissue and dabbed her eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara. ‘I couldn’t find the words to explain, I...'
Stella’s voice stumbled to a halt as the waiter returned with our food.
'Let’s tuck in,' said Taine, 'we’ve got all week to talk.'
I glared at him, not so easily appeased. He shrugged. I rolled my eyes and gave in. We followed up the main course with delicious strawberry and vanilla sundaes. They came complete with sparklers and tiny pastel umbrellas. Over lunch Stella offered her third bedroom to Taine, making our stay simpler. We steered away from all talk of the Cloaken and instead chattered about where we wanted to visit while in Paris. All the usual suspects: the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Champs-Élysées, Notre Dame and the Louvre. Anywhere else would be a bonus. We added Disneyland Paris to our list.
After we finished eating, we travelled on the Metro to Stella’s apartment in old Marais. Annie had been right about Stella. Was she right about the mission she gave me too? What would happen if I refused to help? Did I even have a choice with Annie sending visions to both me and Aunt Stella? Why us and not Taine, Alex or India?
Chapter 8: Roots
Bursts of colour from doors and shutters drew me into the holiday spirit. The sunshine made the streets appear pristine. There were open-air markets, speciality food stores and a giant flea market. Twittering birds and people could be heard from all around. One week didn’t seem long enough to fit everything in. We hadn’t arrived at the apartment yet and I already wanted to extend my visit. How would the others react?
My aunt lived in a luxurious penthouse apartment with a rooftop garden. We removed our shoes as soon as we entered. Our feet sank into the plush jewel-toned carpets, as if walking on air. Stella showed me to a lilac, twin-bedded room. I unpacked my belongings into the exquisite Armoire. Its intricate inlaid wood and mother of pearl created almost magical patterns. Each bedroom had its own en-suite.
Stella ushered Taine into a bedroom of duck-egg blue. 'This will be your room.'
After dumping my things, I joined them. His room had a large double bed and antique wardrobe, desk, chair and chest of drawers. Taine eyed the photos hanging on the walls. One set was of a man who appeared to be the image of Taine. He had his arms wrapped around a laughing woman. Taine sank onto the bed, biting his lip and blinking rapidly.
'After supper, I will get my old albums out.’
‘Thanks. I have few photos of my parents. Imal has ones from when he and my Mum were together, but none later. He gave me their journals, but perhaps there’s more.’ Taine sat on the bed, lost in thought. ‘Were you there that day?' His voice hitched. 'I thought only Imal and the three children he rescued survived. Why didn’t he mention you?'
'I left a couple of hours ahead of the carnage.' Stella pressed a hand to her mouth. ‘I saw the crime scene shots and they were horrific.’ She paled. ‘Does Imal know you are here? Who you are with?’
‘He didn’t care enough to ask.’ Taine’s voice hardened and his jaw clenched.
‘The Imal I knew would care. He’d want to prevent you going down this path. Don’t judge him too harshly. Something broke in him back then.’
She took a picture from the wall and brought it over. A couple were cuddling close, blowing a kiss at the camera. The man shared Taine’s quirky grin, while something about the shape of the woman’s eyes seemed familiar. I guessed it was a photo of his parents judging by the longing in Taine’s expression.
‘Imal adored your mother. He was furious with himself for putting India in danger by letting her go to the house party. What he must have witnessed...’
Her shoulders quivered. I was torn, not knowing who needed comfort most.
‘The Venato
r were never caught. I was terrified they would come searching for me and mine. Imal must have felt the same or worse. He saw people die, helpless to prevent it.’
‘Why did they never find you?’ If she knew a way of stopping the Venator from finding me...
‘I boxed up all my Guardian equipment. Hid it under a woollen blanket in our attic. About a month before you turned fourteen, memories came flooding back. They refused to be pushed away.'
Stella’s friend Pierre came in and introduced himself. 'Come into the garden. I prepared homemade pizza, bruschetta and salad.’
Pierre was tall, with dark hair. He had a battered face as if someone had hit him with a bat long ago and kept on swinging. ‘Taine come and get the plates and cutlery from the kitchen please. Ellie-Grace if you bring out the glasses, then we are all set.'
Barefoot I crossed the limestone flags connecting the kitchen with the outdoor space. I moved through the open bi-fold doors past the citrus scent of orange and lemon trees growing in pots to either side. Taine and I carried out our duties on autopilot before helping ourselves to pizza and salad. Stalks of bamboo rustled in the breeze.
'There’s so much we want to know, have to know even.'
Taine nodded. ‘Same.’
A couple of birds chirruped, splashing in the water fountain behind him.
‘Let’s eat,’ said Stella. ‘You have both been on the go for months. Unless you change your path that’s set to continue.'
As we ate, I took in the garden. The artist in me appreciated the subtle planting. Greens and blues shot through with hot yellows, reds and orange. Stella told me she took inspiration from Gertrude Jekyll, another gardener unafraid of colour. The garden’s peace drew me in.
Pierre left after we’d eaten and Stella continued her history lesson. 'I catch up with Imal at Christmas each year. Did he speak of the people who died or of the missing baby?'
We cleared the table, each carrying leftover salad and crockery into the kitchen.
'I knew nineteen people died including teenagers. No-one mentioned a missing baby.' Taine sounded puzzled.
New to him too then.
He placed empty glasses on the counter.
'The Venator stole my friends’ baby boy.' Stella scraped off the plates, packing them into the dishwasher. 'Megan and Paul died. He would be your age now if he lived.’
‘No-one found him then?’ I asked as I put leftover salad back in the fridge.
‘No. For weeks afterwards, I trawled newspaper articles. Rang hospitals checking for abandoned babies. It was never him.’ Stella’s hands shook slightly. She switched on the dishwasher.
‘What could have happened to him?’ Taine pulled the bi-fold doors closed and locked them.
‘My worst nightmare would be if the Venator trained him to attack us and the Cloaken. On the other hand, he could be dead. Nothing we can do until we know.' Stella flicked off the kitchen light and we moved into the lounge.
We sat on the burnt-orange leather sofas.
I curled my legs underneath me. 'Taine told me about his parents. I had no idea so many others were killed alongside them.'
Taine ruffled his hair. 'I tend to focus on those I lost. Imal does his best but I miss having my own parents.’
‘It is natural to wonder how life would have been if they survived.' Stella sounded subdued.
‘Imal washed his hands of India and I when we became Guardians. He supports us financially. Although...' Taine paused, a new note in his voice, ‘that day must have been horrific. Perhaps the fear of a repeat haunts him. The odds of surviving an attack like that twice are slim.'
Stella’s eyes widened. 'I’m getting a ladder. You can get a box labelled ‘Servāre’ from the attic. I have videos of your parents.’
Taine’s jaw dropped.
‘When were they taken?’ I asked.
‘I have video from their wedding and Taine’s christening. Plus, footage from that last house-party.'
Taine was still a moment before rousing himself to retrieve the box. We curled up on the sofas, watching videos on an old dual VCR / DVD machine. I pretended not to notice when Taine swiped at the odd escaping tear. It freaked me out to watch footage of people vibrantly happy and alive hours before they were slaughtered. Watching the scenes from the house party took us up close to midnight.
Stella insisted we went to bed. 'We’ll talk more tomorrow. Sleep, your parents would want you to rest.'
Next day, blinding sunshine woke us around 10 a.m. Scents of freshly baked croissants and aromatic coffee drew us to the kitchen.
Stella was already there. 'Help yourself. What do you fancy doing today?'
'I should ring my parents, I forgot yesterday,' I helped myself to coffee.
'Call when you’re ready. I rang them last night when we got in.’ She passed me the milk.
'Thanks.' I added strawberry jam to the croissant and bit into it. Pastry flakes littered my clothes like confetti.
'I’d better text Imal,' muttered Taine. He pulled out his phone and began tapping.
Stella offered to show us the sites. She said we could go to Euro Disney by ourselves. She showed an unexpected level of trust. We began our sightseeing in the city centre. Paris by night was magical as we cruised the River Seine. Twinkling lights covered the Eiffel Tower and made it shine like a beacon of hope and beauty.
The days flew by. As Taine and I travelled on the Metro to Euro Disney, he said, ‘Stella told me one of the Venator died all those years ago. Vashtin took out at least two of your attackers at Easter too. I reckon we should stay longer and ask Stella to teach us combat magic.'
'Maybe. Can we just be tourists today?’ I was scared we’d end up dead like his parents.
We enjoyed Euro Disney although the site was smaller than I anticipated. The Pirates of the Caribbean was Taine’s favourite. I loved the Disney Parade, an enormous spectacle of sound and colour, floats, dancers, skaters and marchers filled with childhood favourites. Show tunes blared out over the tannoy system, jumping from song to song. Rain drizzled as we waited for the second parade, but the sea of multi-coloured umbrellas didn’t dampen our enthusiasm. We took masses of photos and videos. Jubilant we headed home to the apartment.
During our stay in Paris, there were times my shoulders itched as if someone was spying on us. I never spotted a repeating face and ignored it. That night the sensation grew worse and I mentioned it to Taine.
'Lighten up. Stop seeing bogeymen on every corner.'
I lost it. ‘Bogeymen, bogeymen. A bogeyman didn’t kill Vashtin! The Venator ambushed us and he died.’ My lips tightened as I sat on the tube, arms folded. ‘You need to take it seriously. We are being watched.’
‘The thing with Vashtin was months ago. You should be over it by now, you barely knew him.’ Taine’s voice cracked halfway through his sentence. If he had left it there, I might have let it go but then he said, ‘I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way you jump and quake. You’re paranoid.’
My fists clenched and my nails bit into my palms, creating red welts. Lucky for him we were in a public place, as I wanted to slap him. The tube pulled into a station and I hurtled out the carriage, otherwise I would have punched him. I sniffed, I might be mad, but I still wanted to be friends. Hurting him wouldn't help. I raced on, unmindful of where I was going. The itchy feeling receded. Perhaps I had given any pursuers the slip in my headlong rush.
I shuddered to a stop, bending over, breathless and fighting a stitch. Straightening, I searched for a familiar landmark. Nada. My mouth twisted as I felt for my phone and came up empty. I wanted to kick myself. I had abandoned it on the train, in my bag, with him. I needed to work out how to get back to Taine or even Stella’s home.
A Metro sign lay up ahead and I moved towards it even though I had no money for a ticket. As I neared it, Taine trudged up the steps, carrying our bags and looking dejected. Thrilled to see him, I forgot my anger, rushed over and whirled him round. I hugged him and felt the tension leave his body.
>
‘We’re okay then? Sorry about before. I shouldn’t have said that.’
I punched him lightly on the shoulder. ‘Don’t do it again. Relieved to see you though.’
Twenty minutes later, we made it to Stella’s apartment. A French police officer was at the door. Someone had broken in earlier. Stella and Pierre disturbed the intruder, and he ran off, escaping over neighbouring rooftops. They described him as tall, with brown, greying hair, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. Nothing was taken. He’d been bent over the Guardian box when they returned home. Coincidence or had someone found us? Some of the shine of our EuroDisney visit was lost.
Afterwards, Taine was more respectful if I suggested someone was spying on us. I resisted saying I told you so but a few slipped out. He was right too though. We should learn Guardian self-defence. I wanted to be ready if trouble came for me.
Pierre, a long-time family friend, was becoming something more. It made me uncomfortable, but my uncle had been dead for over two years. Stella was entitled to find someone else. Pierre laid out supper for us in the kitchen.
Taine loaded a baguette with ham and salad. 'Stella, can you teach us Guardian self-defence? Are there tools that could help us?'
Stella and Pierre exchanged glances. ‘What training have you had?'
'Smoke bombs saved my life the day I met Taine. Nothing else.’ I stretched my mouth wide and bit into a baguette.
Taine put his plate down. 'Is there much more to know?'
Stella shifted in her seat. 'You should walk away like we did.’ Her lips firmed.
‘Look I’d love to run hard and fast in the opposite direction,’ I said, ‘but it may not be an option.’
‘They already killed Vashtin. If Titus hadn’t tracked her, Ellie-Grace would be dead too. We have to be prepared.’
‘Best give you a fighting chance then.' Stella clasped Pierre’s hand so tightly his skin whitened at the folds.
It was agreed, Taine and I would stay a few more weeks. They would teach us basic Guardian defence. Imal didn’t quibble, after a quick text Taine was set to remain. My parents would be harder to persuade. How could I overcome that? Cheat.