“Oh, okay,” Keira said faintly.
“So, you know what’s been happening?” Marco asked the old woman.
“Yes, I know. My messengers have been busy the past few weeks.” Cassandra reached out and clasped Keira’s hand in her own. “I am so sorry about Victoria’s death, dear child. She was a truly remarkable woman.”
“You knew Aunt Vic?” Keira asked. She wasn’t as surprised as she probably should be. Nothing seemed to surprise her anymore.
“Yes, she spent time with me when she was a bit younger than you are now. So did The One before her, and The One before, and so on,” Cassandra said and waved her hand vaguely through the air.
“But, you can’t possibly be that old!” Keira exclaimed.
“Oh, thank you. You are such a darling child!” Cassandra threw her head back and laughed a big belly laugh.
“Then this is the place she told me about, the place I was supposed to bring Keira,” Marco asked.
Cassandra was still chuckling and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “Yes young man, this is the place. And a jolly good job you’ve done of it as well. Well done, both of you!”
Cassandra turned towards Keira again and continued: “In this dimension, time and distance are irrelevant. Both can be bent and shaped, which explains why I am so young and so old at the same time.”
“But isn’t that exactly what Daemon is trying to do?” Keira asked, suddenly suspicious.
“Ah, I see Victoria was able to give you at least some information,” Cassandra replied. “No child, it is not the same. What we do here is limited to this dimension. The Akasha, however, connects everything in the Universe together; it includes all the dimensions, not only yours. If Daemon manages to enter the Akasha and alter time, it would have a ripple effect throughout the Universe, and that would be a very bad thing. For all of us.”
Keira looked over at Marco; he was staring at her with an unreadable expression. He slowly pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Thank you again, Cassandra,” he said.
The old woman bowed her head graciously in acknowledgement.
“Keira, I will come and get you when Cassandra lets me know you’re ready.”
“That won’t be necessary Marco. I will take her where she needs to be when the time is right,” Cassandra replied calmly.
“What do you mean? You’re joking right?” Keira got up as well.
“This is what Victoria wanted, what she said would happen. I can’t stay here. You are in good hands and there are things that I have to do…outside…to prepare. The Families are in danger.”
Keira wanted to scream, “Screw the Families!” but she stayed silent, glaring at him in disbelief. “So, you’re leaving,” she said. “Fine.”
I don’t need you. I’ll find my own way back.
Marco looked at her for a long moment, lifted his hand as if he didn’t know whether to shake hers or touch her cheek, then turned and left the room without a word. Keira and Cassandra followed to the cabin’s front door and stood on the porch as Marco swung himself onto the back of the black horse waiting for him. He gave a last wave and took off in a flurry of dust kicked up by the horse’s hooves. The white horse grazed off to one side and whinnied a greeting as his friend and the man passed by.
Watching Marco disappear into the trees, Keira couldn’t believe he was leaving her here. What happened to the whole ‘I’ll protect you forever’, and the ‘we have to stay together’ spiel?
Stop it, he doesn’t owe you anything. He must be so relieved to be rid of a responsibility he obviously didn’t want.
Ignoring her treacherous, burning eyes with fierce determination, Keira stared ahead and tried take stock of her surroundings. The cabin was set on a low hill, fronted by a meadow filled with a profusion of yellow buttercups. The winding path along which Marco had disappeared, led down the hill, through the meadow and into the forest. To the left of the house, a small distance down the hill, was a dome shaped hut. A lazy tendril of smoke rose from a hole in its roof.
Doesn’t look much different from Earth—my dimension—oh hell, I’m already thinking this is normal!
She turned to the old woman and asked, “Now what?”
“Now, we pick herbs,” Cassandra answered. She picked up two grass baskets lying on a bench nearby and handed one to Keira.
“Come on!” she said cheerfully. She linked her free arm through Keira’s and led her down the stairs and around the house. They rounded a corner and stepped into a wild wonderland of green, flowering shrubs and trees with branches groaning under the weight of fruit ready for picking. Jewel-like hummingbirds fluttered around purple sage bushes and Monarch butterflies flitted between pink milkweed flowers. A pair of sleepy, emerald-green eyes peeked out from under a catnip bush.
“Mmm, let’s see,” Cassandra held a finger to her lips. “We need some mint…and chamomile for tea…. Yes, also some parsley,” the old woman muttered as she disappeared among the tall herb bushes. “Keira, please pick some apples. I’ll bake us an apple pie for dessert,” she called.
Keira looked around and saw an apple tree on the other side of the garden. Its wide trunk was twisted and gnarled; its low-hanging branches leaned on a stone wall as if needing the support. She wandered over to the tree, savouring the smells of the garden and flashes of brilliant colour from the birds and butterflies.
She stood under the tree and picked the luscious red apples that were within reach until her basket was half full. A flutter of wings startled her and she looked up. Nagwa sat on a branch nearby.
“Oh! You’re here.” She smiled and held her arm out for him to settle on. His presence added another question to the list she had for Cassandra. How did Nagwa get here? The raven hopped down and ruffled his feathers, asking to be petted.
The connection was instant when she touched him; Marco leaning over the horse’s neck, charging through the forest into the mist….
Keira jerked her hand away. She didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know what Marco was doing. It brought back memories she didn’t want to deal with just yet. She was so angry with him, but tried to convince herself that she was relieved to be alone. Besides, being alone will give her time to think. She needed to make sense of things.
“All you have to do is stay calm and this will all work out,” she instructed herself aloud. “I am doing this for my friends and family. They are safer if I stay here for a while. So let’s keep it together and find out what the hell it is I’m supposed to be doing.”
She looked around. Cassandra was nowhere to be seen; she must have gone back inside. Keira felt better after the talking-to she had given herself. She picked up the basket and set off towards the cabin with Nagwa perched on her shoulder, her mouth set in a determined line.
She entered the cabin through the back door and walked into the kitchen. Cassandra was already there, covered up to her elbows in white flour.
“Rinse off the apples, will you?” She instructed Keira. “We’ll make the pie later. Oh, and welcome back!” she addressed her last comment to the raven, who had hopped onto a wooden bird perch in the corner of the room.
Keira could only shake her head. “Why am I not surprised?”
Cassandra chuckled. “I have my means and ways,” she winked at Keira. “I’ve known about you since the day you were born, even though Victoria didn’t. I had to make sure that the spark within you was nurtured until she could take over, so I sent my old friend here to keep an eye on things.”
Keira was silent while she held the apples under the flowing tap. The mention of her aunt’s name made her realise how little she knew about the woman.
“Please tell me about Aunt Victoria,” Keira asked.
Cassandra sighed. “Where to begin? There are so many stories…so many.” She put the bowl of mixed dough to one side and covered it with a cloth. “Come, sit with me,” she invited and lowered herself onto a chair at the white scrubbed kitchen table. Keira carried the basket with rinsed a
pples over to the table and sat down.
“I suppose the best place to start at would be the day when she came into your world,” Cassandra smiled. “Victoria was born a long time ago. Did you know that she was much older than anyone suspected, and that her longevity wasn’t just due to good genes?”
“Yes, I got the idea—towards the end—when she told me how long she’d been leading the Guardians,” Keira said.
“I was there when she was born. I knew that she was coming and there was a threat that she would be killed. Victoria’s parents were very active in the magickal world and they had enemies, both within the Guardians and among other magickal groups.”
“There are more groups?” Keira asked.
“Quite a few actually,” Cassandra nodded. “They all have their own identities, but among the Guardians they are generally known as ‘The Others.’”
“And the Guardians work with these groups?”
“Yes. The Guardians are tasked with protecting the Akasha, which affects all dimensions, as you now know. This duty has given them a unique position. For centuries they have acted as the peacekeepers, or mediators, between the different magickal factions. Some of the factions have been grateful, others not so much. Every time it becomes known that a new High Priestess has been born, or initiated, the unfriendly factions make it their mission to interfere.”
Keira felt faint. “And—and she wanted me to….” Her voice tapered off. As if Daemon wasn’t bad enough, she now had to deal with the knowledge that there were more evil-wannabes out there who would potentially like to see her head on a plate.
“Yes, she wanted you to take over. And I’m sure you’ll understand now why she protected you for so long. She didn’t want anyone to know about you until she had time to prepare you. But Keira, you have to remember that Marco would stand right beside you, and you’d have the best wing team in the Universe — the Draaken. Not even mentioning myself and the legions of warriors from those magickal factions who support the Guardians’ work.”
Keira’s “Mmm” came out as a squeak. She had to sit back and take a deep breath. The situation was so surreal; she could only shake her head. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Okay, could we get back to Aunt Vic? I understand why she didn’t tell me all of this up front, but I can really only deal with one dimension at a time.”
Cassandra laughed. “Of course. Like I said, I was there when Victoria was born. The first threat to her life was realised when a wet nurse tried to smother her. Well, I dealt with that situation.” Cassandra’s voice had a steely edge to it.
“What did you do?” Keira couldn’t help but ask.
“Let’s just say I sent the woman back to her faction in a few separate packages,” Cassandra said and blinked her big, innocent blue eyes.
Keira decided that she wouldn’t be asking Cassandra detailed questions about violent topics again. Her stomach really wasn’t up to it.
“Victoria grew up being aware of her powers and how to use them. So unlike you, my dear girl,” she gave Keira’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. “After a few years, she came here to complete her training and, after that, she was accepted as the next High Priestess. At the same time, Roberto Mansini became Commander of the Draaken. They met and it was love at first sight,” Cassandra said.
“I know she’d been married a long time ago, and that her husband was killed. Was it an accident?” Keira asked.
“No, he was murdered. They only had a few years together.”
“Oh—poor Aunt Vic,” Keira whispered.
“Mmm,” Cassandra agreed. “It was after his death that she relinquished her position as High Priestess. She felt responsible—said she should have protected him. Utter nonsense of course, but she wouldn’t be reasoned with.” Cassandra took the dough from its bowl and started pounding it into submission.
“But, why?” Keira asked, spellbound by the story of her aunt’s life.
Cassandra sighed. “It was a dark time for the Guardians. The Du Pré Family—”
“Daemon!” Keira interrupted.
“Yes,” Cassandra acknowledged. “They have always been good at stirring things up. This was during the time of Daemon’s great-grandfather. He had managed to convince a number of other Families of the ‘merits’ of his case, which was the need for greater investment in the black arts, ruling the world, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Which Daemon is continuing to do now.”
“Correct. That is one apple that has fallen right next to the tree. Well, Roberto had accompanied Victoria on a fact finding mission, when they were ambushed. He died protecting her. She never recovered from the shock.”
“Was Roberto’s murderer ever caught?”
“Oh yes,” Cassandra answered with a grim smile. “It was Daemon’s great-grandfather. He fled, but it became Victoria’s sole mission to track him down and once she did, he didn’t die a pleasant death. That was the last time she used her magick. She said that the need for revenge had consumed her—turned her into something she didn’t recognise. She continued with her responsibilities for a while, but her heart wasn’t in it. At first, the Council didn’t accept her stepping down as High Priestess—it had never been done before—but even they had to agree in the end that it was for the best. So they elected her as Leader of Council and she accepted because she could fulfil her responsibility towards the Guardians without using magick. She could still sense the spark in others though and made it her duty to train the next generations.”
“So, Daemon has taken up his great-grandfather’s mantle,” Keira frowned.
“He’s been trying to regain his family’s ‘honour’, as he sees it. Victoria kept the Du Pré’s in check for a few generations, but Daemon has been very persistent,” Cassandra said.
“So, how exactly do I figure in all of this?” Keira asked.
“Ah, now that be the question.” Cassandra pulled the basket of apples closer and started peeling the red fruit, then handed them to Keira to cut into small pieces.
“In the beginning, the Guardians were not a cohesive whole. In fact, they didn’t have a name for themselves—didn’t know about each other. There were only a few scattered individuals who roamed the earth and tried to survive as best they could. Some were healers, some were weather mages, among others. Many were killed throughout the centuries, especially during the Dark Ages when they were seen as devils or witches. What a horrible, horrible time,” Cassandra sighed and shook her head.
“During the first wave of witch hunts in the thirteenth century, a child named Rayne was born. She was exceptionally powerful and her parents tried to hide her from the Inquisitors, but they failed. Someone betrayed them. The witch hunters came in the middle of the night and set fire to their house, with Rayne and her parents sleeping inside it. The men laughed as Rayne’s mother started screaming. I can still hear that roof collapsing, the heat….” Cassandra paused and stared out of the kitchen window with a terrifying intensity, as if she could hear those screams and see the flames echo back across the centuries.
Keira had her hand clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide at the horror of Cassandra’s memories.
The old woman looked back at the scarlet apple in her hand and continued, “I got Rayne out of the fire, but it was too late for her parents. The Church thought they were all dead, but she was here, with me, learning how to channel her energy and use her talents. When she was ready, she travelled the world and searched for people like herself. That small group was the beginning of the Guardians and Rayne was their first High Priestess. Since then, once every few generations, a child is born with the ability to lead and guard the Knowledge.”
Keira saw where this was going.
“Cassandra, please—I’ve never led or guarded anything in my life. That is not me, I’m not the leading or guarding type.”
Cassandra’s sudden laughter pealed through the cabin and stilled Keira into confused silence.
“Oh,” she gasped. “I do enjoy these first conversatio
ns! It is always the same. ‘I can’t do it’ or ‘I’m not strong enough,’ always the same! And then they leave here and save the world,” Cassandra chortled again.
Keira was slightly peeved at not being taken seriously and sat back with her arms folded.
“Never mind, never mind,” Cassandra smiled at the young woman. “Let me continue with my story. You see, Keira, the Guardians have built up vast resources over the centuries, both in terms of knowledge and money. There are those who seek these resources for their own gain, one of those whom now sits in the castle you so recently fled.”
“But he didn’t kill Victoria just for the money, did he?” Keira asked.
“No, but that is the reason he has given his followers,” Cassandra answered. “They believe he will make them rich and they will rule the world. His true goal is to become ruler of the Universe, and, with the Book of Knowledge, he might succeed.”
“Do you know where it is?” Keira asked again.
“I have an idea where it might be, but it is guarded by spells so powerful that even I can’t trace it. Victoria would have handed down the secret of its location to you, after your initiation.”
“So, does anyone know where it is?” Keira leaned forward. Surely someone had to have an idea.
“No one except the High Priestesses has ever known its exact location. They might have left clues, however, and Daemon has dedicated his life to finding it. I think he followed a trail which led him to believe it is in the castle, which is the main reason he attacked it.”
Cassandra got up to get a pie dish out of the cupboard. “There is one more thing,” she said. “Daemon might be able to find the Book, and once opened, he can use the knowledge for his own gain. But he needs a High Priestess of the Guardians to open it.”
Keira gave a deep sigh. She traced the whorls in the wooden tabletop with her finger, leaving narrow paths in the flour Cassandra had spilled. It was impossible to pretend this didn’t affect her. She didn’t have to be deeply introspective to realise she couldn’t turn her back on this.
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