Unwrapped: A Fated Realms Novel - 1

by M J Sherlock

  'Update me on the cameras and bugs Sable brought in.'

  Ratface left the laboratory, motioning Galden to follow him to his office. 'The cameras and some of the bugs were ours. Those scattered around the hotel either belonged to your targets or a competitor organisation.'

  'A competitor?' The blue lighting made Galden feel he was stuck inside a refrigerator.

  'Did you imagine we were the only ones?' Ratface laughed in his face.

  Galden wrapped his fingers around Ratface’s throat.

  Ratface held up his hands, his face purple.

  'What did you do that for?' He massaged his throat. 'I was only messing.'

  'I know. Now you know messing with me or my team would be a colossal mistake.' Galden folded his arms and stared him down.

  'Okay, okay.' Ratface dropped his eyes. He backed away from Galden as if he was a psychopath. Ratface’s neck bore livid, finger-shaped marks, which would bruise overnight.

  Galden chuckled menacingly and for one horrific moment, he wondered if he was turning into Orev. He blinked the thought away. 'What competitors?'

  'Rumours suggest another group has designs on the Cloaken. This time though the fingerprints belonged to our young Guardians. Well, other than Detective Inspector Pierce.'

  'What was he doing there?’

  Pierce had collared one too many of his men after the Hampstead Heath and Green Park incidents. Hush money only went so far.

  ‘You tell me.’ Ratface retreated to his leather computer chair.

  ‘Can you tell which Guardian placed them?' Galden rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the ridge of an old scar.

  Ratface pulled up the report on the screen and angled it to show Galden. 'Eight prints were identified excluding hotel staff. Discounting the parents and the Inspector leaves five sets.’

  ‘How were they identified?’ Galden drummed his fingers on the white desk.

  ‘A Forensics team entered the Aunt’s home in Paris and sent over her prints for elimination. Turns out, she was present 13 years ago at the training centre where we wiped out the Guardians. Puts her much higher up our list.'

  A new report flashed on screen.

  'And the other four?' Galden hid how much of the information was new to him.

  Ratface tapped the keyboard bringing up another report. 'Two sets were found at Ellie-Grace’s house. One may be from the boy in Paris. The set which repeats most in her bedroom we identified as hers.’.

  ‘Were the others also confirmed as Guardians?’ A band of pressure tightened across his forehead, made worse by the blue light.

  ‘Yes, the other prints belong to the Guardians that Ghost sought. It would appear they met up and escaped together.’

  Would that be enough to save him and Ghost? ‘What else can Forensics tell us?’

  Ratface flicked through his emails. ‘They’re running tests on the DNA evidence to confirm their identity and whether they were present at previous incidents.'

  'Send a report to Orev PDQ. Copy it to Ghost and myself. Trace where the Guardians sourced their bugs. It may give us a breakthrough.' Galden stretched his arms behind his back.

  'Will do. Next time layoff with the hands. I would have answered you without it.' Ratface retreated from the room.

  Galden whistled the Dambuster theme tune as he returned to his quarters. Plenty of opportunities to wind up Ratface next time they met. He had supplied a lot of useful intel. He paused to pick up his daily rations from the canteen. Later, he dropped like a stone into unconsciousness, oblivious to hidden cameras and bugs peeking out from vents and lights.

  Chapter 22: Camp Clotho

  Alex’s voice penetrated and I stopped gawking at the ancient manor that was to be our temporary home. '...Zoe will show us where to sleep. We will be sharing rooms with others. Drop your baggage upstairs then come and grab a bite to eat.’

  Zoe looked pristine, not a hair out of place. Wide cheekbones, long straight nose and hair swept up on top of her head. I felt grubby, travel stained and cranky. ‘Crotchety,’ my Nan would say. Any filter between my mouth and brain was long gone. ‘What’s your role, Zoe?'

  'I am royalty. With all the unrest the Oracle requested my presence here.' Zoe’s voice was low and musical.

  'I’m not the only one who gets weird messages then?'

  'It’s normal for one in ten of us. Some Cloaken go a whole lifetime without a vision or hearing from the Oracle. By choice or sheer unbelief.'

  'I was never given the option of unbelief with what happened to Vashtin.’ Grief rolled over me in a wave and I regretted mentioning him. I blinked to clear images of him lying on the floor, bleeding out, yelling at me to run. Would I never be able to forget?

  Zoe ushered Alex and Taine into their room across the corridor before showing us into a square, mint green room with a round window. There were three beds on offer but with room for twice as many without becoming over-crowded. 'Mine is the bed nearest the window, the others are free.'

  I chose a bed with blue and white covers with a paisley pattern running through it in threads of silver.

  'Interesting choice,' said Zoe, 'it has enchantments sewn in to promote peaceful sleep, protection and healing.'

  I stroked it, feeling the softness and craftsmanship of the stitching. 'It’s similar to an heirloom quilt I had before the Venator tore my room apart.'

  'Take it with you when you leave.'

  I stammered my thanks. Maybe she had a warmer heart than her frosty exterior suggested.

  We made our way down wide stairs to what we would soon christen, ‘The War Room.’ It held a subtle scent of lemon and beeswax, despite the many people crowding the room. The hum of conversation disguised the sound of our shoes clomping across the dark wooden floor.

  Cornflower blue velvet curtains framed arched windows, each tiny pane of glass acting as a mirror against the night sky. Seeing India reflected in the glass, I felt guilty for ignoring her in my preoccupation with Zoe. She waved at me from across the room, unfazed by my poor manners.

  A colossal marble fireplace dominated one end of the room. Carved griffins served as columns to support the mantelpiece. Wyatt stood in front of a blazing fire. Had he come because we had? I had warmed to Vashtin immediately, helped by him saving my life twice. Zoe and Wyatt would struggle to live up to his memory.

  Ting, ting, ting. Zoe rang an ornate brass bell to call for silence. Voices died to a whisper. She moved to stand alongside Wyatt.

  'Now we are all here, I wish to set ground rules for your stay.' Uncaring of the ancient floor, Wyatt dragged forward a flipchart, its grey plastic feet trailing black marks behind it.

  I resisted a giggle. Taine winked at me, smirking.

  Wyatt read out six rules, as if explaining something to an infant class:

  'No external contact without our explicit consent - this includes cell phones which must be encrypted and may not be used within ten miles of here.

  Switch off electronic gadgets until passed by our techies.’

  My eyes roved across the ceiling, which was twice the height of a normal room. It was covered in paintings of mythical battles with all kinds of (what I hoped were) fantasy creatures. The quality of the artwork rivalled the Sistine Chapel. Griffins, phoenix, dragons and unicorns all fought for dominance alongside more mundane animals.

  ‘No guests to leave without express permission.

  Everybody has chores, no free pass.

  Train every day.’

  His earnest voice grated and I reviewed the fantasy paintings hanging above wood panelling. They were interspersed with crystal wall lights matching ornate chandeliers dripping from the ceiling.

  ‘Secrets can kill. If in doubt share it with Zoe or me and we will decide whether it needs sharing more widely.'

  'We need to trust each other to minimise risk,' said Zoe. 'I understand Ellie-Grace’s parents are missing and you are expecting friends. We may provide other means of communication for them.'

  'How,’ asked Alex,
‘if mobiles are banned and you have confiscated our gadgets?'

  'We can use a bulletin board and loop our signal through multiple countries. It will not track back to us. Stella is writing a note for Pierre.’ Zoe held out her hand to Stella who passed her the note.

  'We’ll begin your training at dawn tomorrow, after which breakfast will be served. It has been a long day. I suggest we retire,' said Wyatt.

  ‘Dawn, did he say dawn?’ I whispered to Taine.

  He pulled a face, no keener on early rises than me. Still, with my parents missing and the future hanging in the balance, it was unlikely I would sleep. Stella hugged me, reminding me she was anxious too.

  'It will work out,' I said.

  'Absolutely,' said Stella with about as much conviction. 'Why would the Oracle allow everything to fall apart now?’ Her voice strengthened, becoming firmer. ‘Trust the process. Try not to worry.'

  'Do or do not, there is no try,' said Taine.

  'Don’t go all Yoda on me now.' My lips curved, despite myself.

  When India and I returned to our room, we found a stack of clothes, towels and basic hygiene necessities plus make-up. Grey, cushioned combat boots in our size lay at the foot of each bed. I tested the flexible soles.

  Zoe answered my unspoken question. 'Annie sorted these out for you. We train our special forces here, so we keep basics in stock.’

  'Thank her for us,' said India. 'We appreciate it.'

  Annie. Maybe I would get to express my frustration at her one-sided communications. Wait - was she the Oracle Zoe referred to or was there someone else?

  ‘We have our own bathroom and a separate toilet and hand basin through there.’ Zoe indicated a couple of doors next to one another.

  ‘Thanks.’ I inclined my head.

  We must have slept but too few hours later, Zoe shook us awake. ‘Throw on some clothes and get outside. The men are already there waiting.'

  Wyatt led a group of twenty through a range of slow stretching exercises similar to Tai Chi. I soon relaxed into the flow. He stopped at each member of our group, correcting posture and suggesting improvements. Taine, like me, needed little correction.

  After about thirty minutes, Wyatt directed us to take items out to an assault course they were creating. Even lifting some of the individual items into place was a four-man job.

  'Took a lot longer than the hour they promised us.' I joined the others.

  'Reminds me of a Tough Mudder set up,' said Taine.

  'I’d prefer Total Wipeout,' joked Alex.

  'Imagine winning money for completing the course,' said India.

  'Taine and I practiced on assault courses over the summer, but I hate mud,' I whined, 'although this time we get to wreck their clothes not ours.'

  'True,' said India, ‘although from the sound of it, most of your clothes were ruined by the Venator.’

  'Thanks, I’d almost forgotten.’ An image of my shredded clothes surfaced. Acid burned my throat.

  We made our way back for breakfast.

  'No ganging up on us,' said Taine.

  'Why not? We females have to stick together.' India slipped her arm through mine.

  We made our way back to the manor jostling each other. Zoe and Wyatt beat us back to the manor, the benefits of leadership I suppose. My arms ached from lifting, not that I would tell anyone. India smiled sympathetically and I realised I was rubbing my arms. I would need to work harder to keep anything from her.

  'Made it back then Ellie. Any news?' Stella popped out from the kitchen.

  I cringed at the hope in her voice. 'No. How are you coping?'

  'Better than I expected. It helps being back in the thick of things. I made a mistake walking away, this time I’ll stick it out.'

  Chapter 23: Clash of Opinions

  After breakfast, Zoe made a beeline for me. She wore forget-me-knot blue training gear that appeared to have body armour built in. I hoped she had news of my parents. Something in her expression made me doubt it.

  ‘May I speak to you in private?’ she asked.

  I nodded.

  We exited the Dining Hall and passed small groups trailing over to the noticeboard to check their Assault Course slots and running partners. Zoe led me to a book-lined office, overlooking the herb garden. She invited me to sit in the window seat, with its painted white frame and collection of lemon and violet cushions.

  'The Elders refuse to give the Venator a way to contact you yet. You all need more training. Contacting them now would cost us any slight advantage we have.’

  I hugged a violet cushion and twisted a decorative button. My fingers skirted the stiff fabric covered edges. ‘Why?’ I was tempted to yank the button free and tested the tension in the thread.

  ‘It would be suicide. They would demand an artefact or ask you to exchange yourself for your parents. Probably within twenty-four hours.’ Zoe adjusted her slim gold watch. Its circle of diamonds flashed as it caught the light. ‘Give us two weeks to train you and you may have a fighting chance.’

  ‘My parents are being tortured now. I can feel it. They may be dead by then!’ I jittered as adrenaline flooded my body. My ears buzzed.

  ‘We know nothing of your parents. They could be colluding with the Venator...’

  She was unbelievable. I wanted to slap her. How dare she say that about my parents?

  ‘...We will not risk sending our people to possible death until we know more.'

  I could feel the whips flaying my Dad’s back. Burning across him leaving red, angry welts. Scarring. How could I wait? 'Did someone steal your heart at birth?’ My vibrating, clenched fists hung close to my side as I fought to stop them flying out at her.

  Giving her no time to reply I stormed out to round up my fellow Guardians. Taine and Alex were part way through the assault course, frustrating my plans. There was no way to attract their attention until they finished. I stamped my foot, causing pain to shoot through me and wanted to scream. A momentary vision of me parading around as a screaming banshee forced a reluctant giggle from my throat. I raised my eyes heavenward, pleading for help. I paced the grounds, kicking at piles of leaves as I sifted through Zoe’s words.

  Spotting India under a set of oak trees, I jogged over to her. 'Where’ve you been?' I demanded. Black crows took flight as I appeared, cawing their disapproval.

  India appeared serene and exotic despite her over-sized, borrowed clothes. 'Hello to you too Ellie. crawled under your skin?’

  'The Cloaken refuse to contact the Venator or rescue my parents anytime soon.’ I plonked myself on a fallen tree trunk. My arms wrapped around my body, alternately hot and cold. I ground my teeth.

  'What? Why?’ India moved closer. ‘I am not surprised you are fizzing.'

  'They want us to stay two weeks. Claim anything less would be suicide. My parents could be tortured or killed by then. I bet if it were her parents she wouldn’t wait.' My hands pulled at the rough bark. I tugged off moss and threw it to the ground as if feeding birds.

  ‘Do Taine and Alex know?’ She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes.

  ‘No, they’re right in the middle of their assault course.’ Unable to settle, I launched to my feet and grabbed a thick, long branch and whacked a colossal oak tree with it. Twigs broke off and scattered in all directions, but the tree trunk was unmarked.

  'What training would make such a huge difference?’

  I left the poor tree alone for a moment. ‘I stormed off before Zoe explained.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we find out? Do you even know where your parents are?’

  I gave the tree another whack and then another, and another, and another, before sinking down next to India. ‘No.’ The word sounded tiny in the silence, defeated.

  India slid an arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick squeeze. ‘The Venator sent Alex and I on a wild goose-chase for months. We should have trained with you and the Cloaken instead. If we had, we would be stronger now.’ She stared off into the distance, the words dragging. ‘We were
obsessed with finding them and our own desire for revenge. Never giving a thought to what unholy forces they would unleash if we found them.’ India angled to face me. ‘You and Taine saved our lives yesterday, calling us back.'

  'When you put it like that you make me doubt myself.’ I got back to my feet and whacked the tree again. More twigs splintered off. ‘I want things to go back to the way they were. Mum and Dad…’ Whack. ‘Maisie and Katherine…’ Whack. ‘Niall...’ Whack. ‘If things were normal, I would be on a date right now…’ Whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack. I beat the tree so hard the branch broke apart in my hand. ‘My whole world has collapsed, and I have no clue how to rebuild.' To my dismay, tears overwhelmed my defences. I sobbed, burying my head in my hands.

  India tried and failed to comfort me.

  I put my hands underneath my arm pits and hugged myself. India pulled me towards her. When I had cried myself out, I sat back up, embarrassed. ‘Sorry about that,’ I muttered, not meeting her eyes.

  'No worries.' There were damp patches littering her t-shirt where I had cried over her.

  We sat in silence for a while, gazing out at the mix of alder, oak, willow, hazel and dog rose trees surrounding us. A light wind rustled the Autumn leaves twirling them like confetti. My fingers itched to sketch the view, but my sketchpad and pencils were back at the manor. The stands of oaks were ancient yet stakes and tree guards protected saplings of willow and hazel. Who managed this hidden forest?

  A stag wandered into view; its impressive velvet brown antlers silhouetted against the sky. His female entourage followed several paces behind. The deer munched on nearby grass and brambles, ears flicking skittishly. Something must have given us away, as the stag stared at us before bounding away, followed by his herd.

  'Tell me about Niall.’ India got to her feet, stretching.

  ‘He joined our school a couple of months ago. Think martial arts fan with spiky blond hair and striking blue eyes. Most days he made me laugh at some tall tale he was telling.’ I smiled at the memory.