by M S C Barnes
“To the Sanctum then?” Aelfric said to Henri and now beckoned Dom and the others over before turning and waving his hand towards the tapering tower. Instead of a door, an ornate staircase appeared. Its steps and handrails made of silver metal, it climbed from the platform on which they stood up to the golden ball which, as everyone watched, shimmered and became translucent until it was just a hazy outline with no substance.
The Sanctum of Friends
“It is not necessary for everyone to go,” Henri said gruffly to Aelfric. “The others can remain here.”
“Henri, I would appreciate your accommodating us all,” Aelfric said, giving a respectful nod. “It would be better for our group to remain together.”
Henri scowled at him for a moment, obviously annoyed, but unable to refuse. Then he strode to the base of the staircase. He insisted on going up first, followed by Philippe and Reynard.
Gathering with the others at the bottom, Zach pointed up at Philippe.
“Who’s the scruffy dude?” he said, rather too loudly.
“Shh, Zach,” Aiden whispered.
“I won’t. I just want to know who we’re dealing with here,” Zach said, though he did lower his voice slightly.
“That, Zach, is Philippe, Henri’s Sensor,” Trudy told him, as they watched the three climb the short staircase.
“Does he not use a mirror to get ready?” Zach mumbled and Trudy frowned at him. He shrugged and grabbed hold of the railings, putting a foot on the bottom rung. She moved him to one side as Henri, reaching the golden ball, waved his left hand at the now translucent surface. A door appeared. He opened it and passed through. Although Seb could clearly see through the ball to the other side and, beyond that, the expanse of open sky, he couldn’t see Henri inside. It was as though the man had vanished. Now he watched Philippe pass through the doorway and also disappear.
As Reynard reached the door, Zach called up to him, “So where do I get a sword like that?”
“You don’t!” Trudy snapped at him. She waved Scarlet, Nat and Aiden forward and The Caretaker led them up the staircase and into the ball, followed by Dom and Greg. Now she waved Zach, Seb and Alice on up before escorting Aelfric herself, Dierne behind her.
As Seb reached the doorway he took a quick glance down. He saw two shadows flit past the bottom of the staircase and then realised the wolves had disappeared. His hand was still aching but no more than before. He looked questioningly at Aelfric, who was just behind Alice.
“Should I not go?” he whispered.
“No, Seb,” Aelfric said. “For now, we need to be here.”
Seb followed Zach through the door as the owl, which had remained perching on the rickety railing, swooped up into the sky and away.
Crossing the threshold, Seb’s jaw dropped. They were standing in a long gallery, lined on each side by huge oil paintings. Between the paintings, wall sconces flickered and cast light over a gleaming marble floor. Henri was already striding along it towards a door at the end which was so far in the distance it was barely visible.
“Not the sort of place you could use for a quick meeting then,” Zach laughed.
“Hush the juvenile, Aelfric,” Henri called back nastily.
“Just saying, Henry,” Zach stressed the ‘h’, seemingly enjoying Henri’s dislike of him, “all those steps and now a corridor miles long. What if you had an emergency?”
Seb got what Zach meant. This corridor was ridiculously long and seemed designed for one purpose — to show off the escapades of the chosen Custodians through these huge paintings. Larger than life-size, they depicted scenes of battles between gytrash and Custodian, golem and Custodian, simple misty soul and Custodian. In most, the Custodian, central to the image, was either Heath or Henri, shown in an over-exaggerated pose, like a conquering king in some medieval battle. In the remainder, the main figures were people Seb didn’t recognise. He guessed they must be the other eight chosen ones. And then he stopped. Alice, behind him, almost bumped into him.
“What Seb?” Alice mumbled and turned to look at the picture he was staring at. Seb felt Aelfric place a hand on his shoulder and heard him whisper.
“Say nothing.”
Seb gawped at the painting for a moment longer before once more following the others, who hadn’t stopped and were now quite a way along the corridor. The picture had unsettled him and as he quickened his pace to catch up, he tried to ignore the prickling sensation running down the back of his neck. Unique among the paintings, this one had been just a landscape, devoid of figures. There were no animals, trespassing, malevolent or errant souls, and no typical over-indulgent central image of a triumphant Custodian. Instead, it was a bleak depiction of a location Seb had recognised instantly — the Hurlers — three circles of standing stones in Cornwall. This had been the setting for Seb’s defeat of Heath and Braddock. The oil painting had shown the middle circle of monoliths, vividly set against the backdrop of a sinking sun whose orangey rays picked out the small, embedded stone in the centre of that circle which, Seb knew, hid the access to the Soul Drop. But as if the fact that a painting of that location hung here, in what appeared to be a ‘bragging hall’ for the chosen Custodians, wasn’t disturbing enough, what had really set Seb on edge was the fact that the composition of the picture had been laid out in such a way as to draw the eye to one particular standing stone — a stone which had been rent in two. One half of it lay shattered on the ground, freshly cleaved from the other, which stood at a precarious angle, silhouetted against the dipping sun. On the night Seb had banished Heath and Braddock to the Soul Drop, the force of the power he had used had split this stone in two. That had only happened three months ago.
“How long has that painting been there?” he whispered to Aelfric, wondering now if maybe the Custodians had some sort of prophetic power and had foreseen the events of that night. He wasn’t sure if that would be better or worse than the picture having been painted after the incident with Heath and Braddock.
“It is new,” Aelfric said, looking ahead at Henri who was nearing the door at the end.
“I never spoke of that,” Trudy mumbled to him. “When I told Jacqueline the story, I never mentioned the stone.” Aelfric nodded and continued walking. “It means Henri has been there since.” She paused and then added, “I suppose it is only natural he would visit the scene?”
“Is there a problem, Trudy?” They had caught up with the others at the door at the far end and Henri, standing in front of it, frowned at her. There was an awkward silence; Trudy unsure what to say. In the end she opted to say nothing and simply glared at Henri, pursing her lips. “Come now Trudy, you are so hostile. For what reason?” Henri said.
Now Trudy snapped. “I am hostile because my Custodians have been attacked,” she shouted. “Let’s stop playing games Henri!” His eyes widened in response to her outburst and he looked taken aback but quickly masked his shock with a frown of disapproval.
“And that is no reason for you to disrespect another Custodian,” he growled. “Hold your silence until we are inside.” With a ‘humpf’, he opened the door and walked through.
If the corridor had been grand, the space they now entered was grander still. A vaulted ceiling, supported by massive pillars, spanned an immense, marble floor. The pillars and the struts of the ceiling were decorated with an intricate network of silver filigree and from every nook — floor to ceiling — gargoyles, made of gleaming silver, their mouths gaping, stared out with blind eyes. The plastered walls were covered with a series of massive frescos, painted in the Renaissance style, and designed to display the magnificence of the Custodians. The most impressive, and simultaneously most disturbing, featured a thirty foot, full length portrait of Heath and Henri. The fresco covered the wall opposite the entrance and showed the pair standing side-by-side, their silver hair shining, their left hands raised, displaying the sparkling silver Custodian birthmarks. Their keen eyes were trained on the door and the artist had painted a look of such judgement and arrogance
on their faces that Seb found himself wishing he could walk back out of the room.
Half way between the door and this portrait, on a raised dais in the centre of the room, was a circle of inward-facing, ornate throne-type seats. Ten of them. Other than these thrones, the massive room was empty and high up, flitting between the ceiling buttresses, a cloud of fireflies spread light on that emptiness and the shining floor below.
“Cozy!” Zach chuckled, “and a little modest I would say.” Henri threw him a malicious glare. “Just wondering where all the pictures of your group members are?” Zach said, not put off by Henri’s obvious anger.
Seb stared at the pictures afresh and realised Zach was right. In all the paintings he had fleetingly viewed in the corridor, and now among these vast frescos, only the Custodians featured.
Ignoring Zach’s comment, and keeping everyone at the threshold of the door, Henri turned to Aelfric who had been speaking quietly with The Caretaker.
“You know how this works,” he said, more as a statement than a question. Aelfric nodded. “Then would you please go first?”
Now Greg moved forward, looking affronted. “I am surprised you would feel the need to test Aelfric,” he mumbled at Henri.
“It does not need to be him who goes first,” Trudy said, also stepping forward.
“Are you volunteering Trudy?” Henri asked. “Will you prove your friendship?” Trudy looked awkward. “Ah. You will be staying here then?” Henri muttered and she lowered her head and stared at the marble floor.
While this exchange was going on, Scarlet tugged Seb’s sleeve and pointed at the thrones. He gazed out across the floor and thought he heard the sound of trickling water but his attention was soon pulled back to the doorway as Zach pushed his way forward and stood in front of him.
“If you’re all that fussed, I’ll go first,” he said, impatient to be moving. “I didn’t come all this way to stand in a doorway.” With that, he took a couple of purposeful paces towards the circle of thrones, but as he did, the sound of trickling water turned into running water and suddenly he yelped as his right foot sank below the surface of the floor. Trudy grabbed him and pulled him back as a silver gargoyle above Aiden’s head spouted a plume of water onto him, making him squeal. Zach, wobbling slightly, waggled and shook his foot. Water droplets sprayed left and right from it. “What the heck?” he protested.
“Stand still,” Trudy said, pulling him closer to the door before letting go of him.
Now Seb stared, dumbfounded, at the marble floor. It was clearly moving. He felt totally disconcerted until he made sense of what he was seeing. This wasn’t a marble floor, it was water — a layer of very deep, clear water — sitting atop a floor far below. The area by the doorway was still smooth and shining, and quite obviously solid, but the rest of the space between that firm platform and the thrones at the centre of the room, was water, which, up until now had lain calm and undisturbed. Zach’s breach of the surface had caused the whole area to ripple, revealing it for what it truly was.
“That’s what I was trying to show you,” Scarlet said to Seb. “It’s water. Like a huge swimming pool.”
“Well, I’m not swimming over there!” Zach moaned.
“And you are not a friend,” Henri snapped at him. “Who else among you comes without friendship?” Trudy, Dom and Greg all avoided his gaze and Philippe, looking at Henri, shook his head as if disappointed.
“They cannot cross,” he said.
“We guessed as much,” Henri said, sounding bitter.
Nat tried to get Greg’s attention but Zach nudged her sideways and, placing his hands on his hips, demanded, “Would someone explain what’s going on!”
Not making any effort to leave the vicinity of the doorway, it was Dom who answered.
“To approach the thrones you must ‘be a friend’, Zach. You could view it as a sort of security system. You cannot cross this space,” he waved at the area between the door and the thrones, “without falling foul of one or more traps, unless you have friendship for the Custodians in your heart.”
Zach pondered that a second.
“I could if I had a boat,” he said.
“No, you couldn’t,” Trudy muttered.
Zach shrugged. “Well, since it doesn’t feel very friendly round here at the moment, why don’t we just go somewhere else to have this little meeting?”
“You are free to leave whenever you please,” Henri sneered at him.
“See? Not very friendly at all,” Zach pointed accusingly at Henri who, in turn, glared at him.
“I will not meet with any who do not bear me friendship, Aelfric,” he hissed.
“Walk with me then, Henri,” Aelfric said to him.
Seb gazed out at the water, which had begun to settle back to its glass-like sheen. Just below the surface he could see millions of tiny water imps. These same creatures had borne his weight several times on the lake in the Ancient Place, where his confirmation as Custodian had taken place — allowing him to, effectively, walk on water. Those imps had also supported Scarlet and his friends when they had crossed the lake. Here, though, it seemed, the imps would only support those who were friends of the chosen Custodians. Seb looked at Greg, Trudy and Dom and guessed that their suspicion of Henri had removed any feelings of friendship they may have held towards this very arrogant man — and the dislike between Henri and Zach was obvious. Unsure, he now looked at Henri, at the aloof and stony expression on his face and, realising he didn’t feel any friendship towards this man himself, he knew he couldn’t risk getting his own feet wet.
But Aelfric obviously felt differently.
“Together,” he said to Henri.
“Aelfric,” Trudy muttered.
Aelfric smiled at her. “Things are not always as they seem, Trudy, you know that.” And, with Henri, he now stepped away from the door and onto the water. Instantly thousands of imps rose and gathered around their feet.
“Good, Aelfric. Good,” Henri said, sounding relieved.
“Aelfric, I cannot come,” Trudy, called, frustrated. “And you cannot go without protection.”
“This is the Sanctum of Friends, Trudy,” Henri said, glancing over his shoulder, his voice harsh. “Once Aelfric reaches the meeting place, he will not need protection.”
“Will he not?” Trudy muttered and Henri opened his eyes in surprise before frowning moodily and turning his head away.
“Trudy, we will be fine,” Aelfric said. “I would suggest you all remain here. We will be just a few minutes.” Now he nodded to The Caretaker who instantly moved across and stood right in front of the closed door, beside Philippe. In response Philippe, looking uncomfortable, moved away and stood on the far edge of the platform with Reynard, watching Henri.
“Stay here,” Henri ordered the pair. Philippe looked worried but Reynard simply nodded.
Crowded, with the others, on the small, solid floor space, Seb watched Aelfric and Henri match each other stride-for-stride over the water. He wondered at how Aelfric could feel anything approaching friendship towards Henri, whose behaviour to all of them had been so nasty it made it impossible to like him and, actually, hard not to hate him. Dierne had gone with Aelfric and walked on the water beside him; if Aelfric was willing to remain friends with this horrible man, that seemed to be enough to secure Dierne’s friendship too.
Seb was distracted as Nat joined him.
“Can you follow them? I don’t think we should stay here,” she whispered and glanced across to the other side of the door, where Reynard and Philippe still watched Henri. Seb was about to admit his feelings of dislike towards Henri, which meant he didn’t dare step onto the water, when he heard a hooting sound and, from nowhere, the owl appeared. Flying in from the right, it glided low across the water and then around Henri — who was oblivious to its presence. Finally, it came to land on the water behind him, staring wide-eyed at Seb. And somehow now, this owl’s presence forced Seb to focus on Henri’s aura. Though his body language spoke of a
nger, arrogance and resentment, his aura, Seb realised, actually told a far different tale. Henri was clearly a disappointed and upset man, but, more than that, he was fearful. The aloof manner and angriness were suddenly revealed for what they truly were, a mask designed to hide the fact that he was defensive and scared. Seb wondered if that was what Aelfric had seen.
Not fully understanding, he turned to Nat. “What do you sense?” he asked her, pointing at Henri. She had been watching everyone on the platform and, glancing quickly at Henri, she looked back at Seb.
“Fear,” she answered, simply.
“Me too.” He nodded and now Greg shuffled over to them.
“What?” he asked.
“Henri is scared,” Seb said and Philippe fidgeted. Gazing across the water at Henri, he was leaning so far forward his toes were nearly slipping off the solid platform and now there was a small splashing sound at his feet and a few ripples worked their way outward from him. A gargoyle above him dribbled drips of water onto his shoulders as Reynard, who was still standing beside him, put a hand out and nudged him back away from the water’s edge.
“Be careful,” he said as The Caretaker moved quickly to Philippe’s side.
“Yeah,” Zach chuckled. “You don’t want to get your feet wet.” He waggled his right foot and Philippe gave him a half smile and edged away from The Caretaker.
“Look at him —” Nat murmured but was interrupted as Greg pulled her, with Seb, over to the other side of the platform so that Philippe and Reynard couldn’t hear. He leant in towards them.
“Of course Henri is scared,” he mumbled. “He knows we know.”
Henri, Aelfric and Dierne had reached the thrones on the raised floor. Henri indicated for Aelfric to sit down. Taking the seat beside him, he lent his head in as though whatever he had to say needed to be whispered right into Aelfric’s ear. Dierne remained behind the throne Aelfric occupied watching the two carefully. From where they were, there was not a hope that those near the door could hear what was discussed.