Guardians Inc.:Thundersword (Guardians Incorporated #2) (27 page)

      Delicate tweezers in one hand and a little knife in the other, Shahrukh pumped a pedal with his foot that moved the grinding stone in front of him, and little by little he peeled at the piece of wood on his tweezers.

      “Shahrukh...” the Doctor repeated a little louder, and the Namtarii lifted a hand to acknowledge him while he finished with the grinder.  The Doctor motioned for them to remain quiet while the Namtarii finished.

      It took him a little more than two minutes to grind the piece he was working on to perfection, and then he applied a coating of some liquid to the wood.

      Then, and only then, did Shahrukh turn around to look at them. He actually looked a little bothered that they were intruding on his work. He stood. “Follow me,” he said in a soft voice and walked to the other side of the room.

      Shahrukh looked like he was in his late sixties with gray hair and a balding patch on the crown of his head. He wore glasses and walked a little hunched, his steps slow and deliberate. He was carrying the little piece of wood he had finished carving with the tweezers.

      “Where are your brothers and sisters?” the Doctor asked.

      “Follow!” Shahrukh said, picking up the pace.

      As they entered another large room with a long table, Shahrukh stopped and pointed to a door at the far end. “In the Greenhouse,” he said and turned to a wall that had an incomplete mosaic.

      They walked towards the door. Thomas took one last glance at the Namtarii; he had climbed on a scaffold and was staring back at him, a steely look, not of hatred, but maybe disdain. As Thomas walked ahead he swore he heard Shahrukh whispering behind him.

      And then he heard a cacophony of whispers coming from the room. Voices throwing questions, accusations, and even threats. As they approached the room he began to not only listen, but to also feel the moods behind the whispers.

      “Do you...” he whispered to Elise who had closed in on him.

      “Yes,” she said, and Thomas sensed a little of fear in her voice.

      Doctor Franco tapped on the doors twice, and then he opened it without waiting for an answer.

      The Greenhouse was a large rectangular room. It had a crystal roof supported by wide, metallic arches, and the glass panels were tinted green and followed the curve of the metal beams. The air was stagnant, and Thomas could see dust particles floating in the light rays that filtered through the roof. A smell of tobacco permeated the air.

      The whispers stopped as they entered, and Thomas finally saw the Namtarii on the far side of the room.

      It was like entering into a picture from a fashion magazine. Twelve incredibly handsome men and women were waiting for them. They were all dressed like models from the 1920s—the men in impeccable striped suits with vests, fedoras, and handkerchiefs on the breast pocket, and the women in elegant cocktail dresses, with diamond necklaces and earrings, high heels, and long gloves.

      The names and titles Thomas had read in Tony’s triptych came to the forefront.

      A couple—Yaakov and Acintya—were sitting on high chairs with a backgammon board in front of them. Zardusht and Uchechi, without their jackets, arm bands, and suspenders were flanking Luciana by a pool table. Uchechi held his pool cue over the green table and looked at them as annoyed as Shahrukh had been moments before. A wisp of bluish, thick smoke lazily crawled upward from Luciana’s long-filtered cigarette and intermingled with her blonde hair; her glossy, red lips pouted as she eyed them behind her long, perfect eyebrows. “The Fiery Kiss”—that was what the people in South America had known her after she fueled the measles pandemics in the 16
^th
century.

Seeing those perfect lips, Thomas understood why people would center on that feature.

      Nobody moved; they all were waiting for them.

      “Vogue,” Thomas heard Tony say behind him.

      “What?” he asked.

      “Nothing,” Tony said. “Just a Madonna video I've seen.”

      The Doctor looked back and silenced them with an annoyed look.

“Golems,”
the whispers began as Henri and his brothers entered the room, although Thomas couldn't see any of them moving their lips.

      “Be at ease my brothers and sisters,” a silky, masculine voice said from the far end, putting an end to the whispers. “If they want to kill us they just need to use their sun bomb.”

      “That's correct, Isaurus,” Doctor Franco said. “We are not here to do any harm. On the contrary, we come to ask for help.”

      “Then come in,” Isaurus said, “and ask.”

      The Namtarii watched them walk by without moving any muscles in their perfect faces. A woman of Asian descent, with deep, black eyes, and straight, black hair was tending to a line of bonsai trees. She began to whisper a children’s rhyme very softly.

Baa, baa, black sheep,
 
      have you any wool?
 
      Yes sir, yes sir,
 
      three bags full.
 
      One for the master,
 
      and one for the dame,
 
      And one for the little boy,
 
      who lives down the lane.      

The tone she used was menacing,
wicked
, Thomas thought. He kept walking among them, trying hard not to meet their eyes, but feeling the weight of their gaze upon him as he reached the far side of the glass house where Isaurus waited for them.

The leader of the Namtarii could very well have been a movie star. Isaurus was tall, broad-shouldered, and had a chiseled face, square jaw, and dark hair perfectly cut and waxed to the back. His three-button pinstripe suit was tailored to enhance the strength of his physique, and his deep, dark blue eyes centered on Thomas as he approached.

“Doctor Franco,” Isaurus said with a fake smile. “It’s been too long. Welcome to our prison. Golden as it is…”

“We’ve tried hard to make it less harsh for you, Isaurus. At least you had these windows installed.” Doctor Franco stayed a good nine feet away from the Namtarii.

“Ah yes.” Isaurus pointed to the windows. “Such a boon to see this wonderful landscape.”

The Keep was on a side of a small mountain covered with ice, and Thomas could see just a sliver of ground underneath, then water, with floating icebergs extending into the horizon.

“Antarctica, isn’t it?’ Isaurus asked. “For a while we thought it was the northern tip of Greenland or even Russia, but we saw a flock of penguins once.”

“Maybe it’s time to remove you from this Keep, Isaurus,” Doctor Franco said with an edge to his voice.  “If you’ve grown so weary of this place. Maybe underground?” 

“Maybe...” Isaurus blinked slowly, acknowledging the veiled threat in the Doctor’s remark. “Maybe we can come to some arrangement after we’ve helped you. You have to admit that even such a beautiful vista like this can become tiresome after what…eighty or ninety years?”

“I’m getting tired of these little games, Isaurus,” the Doctor said. “You are not getting out of here, but you can make your stay more pleasant.”

Isaurus drew in a deep breath and glared at the Doctor. “What is it you need help with?” he asked.

The Doctor looked at Thomas. “This is a Thomas. He’s been a Guardian for about a little more than year now,” he said. “His grandfather, Morgan, is a warrior of the Azure Guard, and they share a powerful filial bond. So powerful that Morgan can somehow trace Thomas’s every move, and that makes our work with Thomas very difficult. We want to put an end to that.”

“Kill Morgan and the bond is broken,” Isaurus said in an off-hand manner. 

Thomas felt his heart race.

“You already know that if we wanted to do that we wouldn’t be here.” The Doctor said.

Isaurus smiled at Thomas. “Just what is it you do that you need to hide from your grandfather?”

The Doctor pushed Thomas back with his cane. “You don't need to know that to help us,” he said. “Go back, Thomas, while we make a deal.”

Thomas felt like his feet were frozen, but he managed to break out of his trance. He walked back toward the entrance of the room, relieved that the Doctor didn't need him to stay. Isaurus and the Namtarii scared the hell out of him.

As he approached the woman by the bonsai trees, she stepped in front of him and began to whisper with a depraved smile painted over her face.

Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
 
      stole a pig, and away did run!
 
      The pig was eat,
 
      and Tom was beat,
 
      and Tom went crying
 
      down the street.

“Okay, that's enough from you,” Tony interposed himself between the Namtarii and Thomas. “Go back to your trees.”

The Namtarii locked her eyes with Tony and casually swiped a hand over the trees she had been tending; the bonsais withered and putrefied in a matter of seconds. She then looked over Tony's shoulder at Thomas and slowly raised a hand to Tony's face. “One touch is all I need,” she told him menacingly.

Tony slapped her hand down, and she glared in anger at him. “You have no power over me,” he told her. “Tsikiko, Daughter of the Dark Moon, first Princess of the Gekkara. Your Clan could have been Emperors of Japan, but you decided to kill them all and erase them from history. Of all the other losers here, you were the only one truly evil before becoming a Namtarii.”

Tsikiko stepped back in surprise.

“Aunt Stefania should have killed you in Malacca instead of accepting your surrender.” Tsikiko recoiled in fear. “I wouldn't have made that mistake,” Tony said through gritted teeth.

      Tsikiko took a step back and a loud whisper came from her, but her lips never moved,
“Della Francesca!”

The whisper was repeated by the other Namtarii as they moved for the first time. The ones standing up turned to Tony, while those sitting down stood up from their chairs.

“The hounds!”
other whispery voices chimed.
“The Vendetta!”

Tony stepped toward Tsikiko, whose eyes ran down his hands looking for his sword.

“Yes, boys and girls!” Tony yelled at them. “I'm one of the hounds, and not the only one. My brothers and sisters, uncles, aunts, and cousins are all waiting out there, aching to pay you a visit! The only thing stopping us is your cooperation.” Tony looked at the Doctor who seemed both surprised and angered at his outburst. “Isn't that right, Doc?”

Isaurus threw a questioning glance at Doctor Franco, who quickly composed himself.

“Indeed...” the Doctor told Isaurus.

Tony turned to Tsikiko. “So shut up and start cooperating,” he told her.

The doors to the Greenhouse opened again, and Shahrukh came in carrying a heavy tome in his arms. He looked at Tony with something close to relief on his face. 

“Della Francesca?” Shahrukh said, walking toward him, and extending the tome to Tony. Two of the female Namtarii joined Shahrukh while the others watched in disdain.

Shahrukh and the other two Namtarii, Qianna and Thawaret, knelt in front of Tony. They opened the book while Shahrukh held it in his arms. “Please end it.” he pleaded.

“What's this?” Tony asked.

Thomas immediately deciphered the meaning of the symbols. “It's names,” Thomas said. “The names of all the people they've killed.”

Shahrukh raised his head; he was actually crying. “End it please.” he pleaded again.

Tony froze, unsure at what to do.

“He read the book!”
the other Namtarii whispered
. “The boy is a Cypher!”

“I wonder who told you we could help you with this?” Isaurus said. He seemed encouraged now, and he stepped toward the Doctor, who held his ground. Luciana walked away from the pool table toward him while Zardusht and Uchechi placed their cues on top of the pool table. “Was it the bald Dealmaker?” he said. “Or maybe Tarsaa?” he asked, using Tasha's Elven name.

“Careful, Isaurus.” The Doctor lifted his cane in front of him.

Tony pushed Thomas back toward the doors, leaving Shahrukh and the other two Namtarii kneeling behind. The grotesques and Bolswaithe closed the gap between Thomas and the Namtarii, and Elise's hand took on a golden hue.

“He's not just any Cypher, is he?” Isaurus nodded at Luciana on his right side. A long scythe materialized in her hand. She lifted it above her head, aiming for the window. 

“Remember the bomb,” the Doctor said. “Breach the window and we die.”

“He has seen the signs, hasn't he?” Isaurus said. “I know you would kill us all, even sacrifice yourself, Doctor.” Isaurus pointed at Thomas. “But not him. He's too valuable.” He nodded again, and Luciana struck at the thick glass with her scythe. A large crack spread from the tip of her blade through the window.

“You’re going to kill us all, Isaurus!” the Doctor yelled, his cane beginning to glow.

Luciana pulled her scythe and turned toward Isaurus awaiting his orders.  She smiled at the Doctor.

“No,” Isaurus said.  “I don't think you would risk him.” He nodded and Luciana struck at the window panel, shattering it into large pieces of glass.  The cold air of the Antarctic rushed in through the window followed by a dark shadow that crept along the wall and formed a square beside Shahrukh and the two kneeling Namtarii.

 “You're not the only one who can cut a deal, Doctor,” Isaurus said.

Thomas gasped as he saw the long hand of the Dark Dealmaker coming out from the shadow and grab one of the kneeling Namtarii. She tried to resist him, but the Dealmaker’s hand melded to the back of her head and dark veins of oily substance ran through her beautiful face, smoldering her screams.

“Never again!” Shahrukh began to cry. The Dealmaker smiled wickedly, and pulled the kneeling Namtarii into the shadow with him.

The Namtarii suddenly surrounded Thomas, Elise, Tony, the Doctor, and the grotesques.