Prologue
The Arc stood at the great window of his heavenly home looking out over a cloud covered sky, soft white and brilliant blue. He looked down from his home among the clouds towards the Earth, his to watch over, his to protect… his and his army of Guardians.
As Angels go he was tall at least six and a half feet and strong, his build solid and muscular but not overly so, not at all like one of those overly pumped up muscle builder types. His hair was as dark and glossy as onyx, sleek and silky, the kind of hair a woman would want to run her hands through just to feel it.
His eyes were the colour of a deep blue sapphire, a sapphire that changed colour deepening or lightening depending on mood or temper. At present the seriousness he felt was reflected in the deep colour of his eyes, he had a great deal on his mind and concern was written over his classically chiselled face.
At first glance he looked like the kind of man any woman would kill to be with. But on closer inspection there was a depth to him that would make even the strongest man pause before disturbing him.
Marcus approached the doorway to the Arc’s rooms and stood quietly trying to gage the mood of his friend and leader. In all the years that Marcus had known him the Arc had not changed. He observed his friend’s reflection in the window noting the colour of his eyes and waited for the Arc to acknowledge his presence.
While he waited Marcus looked around the room, a room he knew well from the many times he had spent here in discussions with the Arc and others of his kind. The room was large with a marble floor, white with flecks of gold and silver throughout. The furnishings were sparse but comfortable; two large black leather couches centred the room with a large solid wood coffee table between them. The table was highly polished and looked to be some kind of red-wood.
There were doors either end, one leading to a bedchamber and bathing area, the other to a large meeting room where Marcus had gathered many times with the Arc and other Guardians like himself, beyond that was a library filled with books from every era of mankind. Close to the meeting room entrance was a huge desk made of the same polished wood as the coffee table. Behind the desk there was a plush leather desk and two visitors chairs opposite all matching the colour of the couches.
Against one wall was a set of armour draped over a headless mannequin to display it in full. The walls were bare except for one thing, a glass case set on the wall behind the Arc’s desk. It was high enough to be a display piece, but low enough for the Arc to access if there ever again was a need. Within the case was a large sword, held in place above its scabbard. Both gleamed like polished silver and were looked upon with awe by all who saw them.
The Arc’s sword was his prized possession, not because of its beauty, its monetary value or the strength it imbued, but because it had for so many years been an extension of his body. There had been a time long ago when he had need to wear both armour and sword, a time that he hoped would never be seen again in the world of man or Angel-kind.
The Arc turned his head and nodded in acknowledgement of Marcus’s presence and waited as his visitor approached him. “Are you well?” The Arc asked in greeting.
“I am well Michael, and You?” Marcus returned.
Michael, the Arc gave Marcus a wry smile; “I am as well as can be expected considering our circumstances my friend. Come, sit and speak with me.”
They both took a seat on the couches opposite each other, Michael knew this day was coming and he only hoped that his friend was ready for all of what was to come. He sat quietly for a moment gathering his thoughts before he began.
“It is time my friend. A storm is coming; a storm greater than the last and I cannot foresee its outcome. I do not know if we will prevail.”
Marcus sat quietly for a moment considering what the Arc had said. He knew in his heart that he would be called upon for this, he had known from the moment of her conception that ‘She’ would be the one. She was his Charge and he had watched her grow from conception to infancy and then from a teenager to the woman she now was.
Michael watched patiently waiting for Marcus to respond. “We shall prevail Michael, we cannot fail. To do so would be to let loose evil upon the world and I will not let that come to pass.”
“I sense the darkness drawing near my friend, it has moved slowly encroaching on the weak and pulling them to its service.” Michael looked at Marcus a somewhat desperate look written across his features. “Your Charge is our only hope Marcus, is she strong enough to do what is needed?”
“I believe so; she is determined and won’t give up on what she believes in. She has a good heart and even though she hasn’t exactly embraced the Church, she has an understanding of its teachings thanks to her Uncle.” Marcus hesitated then looked at the Arc. “She is unschooled, she was given no knowledge and little preparation for what is to come.”
Michael gave a look of disbelief at this, “How can this be! Her family come from a long line of ‘Keepers’, they know their duty, why was she not prepared? Why was she not trained?”
Marcus shook his head slowly, sadness creeping over his face. “Her family had begun her training, she was told the old stories when she was a child and she was put through a defensive survival training course several years ago, but her parents were killed in a car accident before they were able to pass on her true heritage.”
“What of her Uncle, it would have fallen to him to see that her training was completed, it was his responsibility to tell her of her heritage and her duty?” said the Arc.
“I cannot say what was in the Priest’s mind Michael. Perhaps he was trying to protect his niece from her heritage and in doing so he may have hoped that she would not be called upon.”
Marcus sighed and continued, “He may not even believe that what he was taught is true. If this is the case, then he would not have even considered passing this knowledge on to his niece.”
Michael nodded in agreement with what Marcus a solemn expression on his face, “You may be right in what you have said, but sadly if you are right you will have an even greater task than we assumed. You will need to bring your Charge into our world Marcus; she will need to see as we do so she can understand what needs to be done... what her part in this will be.”
“It shall be done.” Marcus said as he rose from the couch, then nodded his farewell to the Arc before leaving.
Michael watched as Marcus left, the Guardian was ready for this task he was certain of this. But Michael knew that there would be more to this task than being this young woman’s Guardian and Guide. Marcus would find himself in a position he had never before known, never imagined he would be in and Michael could not warn him; his friend had to experience this alone.
The Arc could not foresee the outcome of what was coming. He didn’t know how this would end and this in itself worried him deeply. In the past he had always been able to see light at the end of darkness, but not this time. This time he felt like he was working blind and he didn’t like it one bit!
Marcus had been a dedicated Guardian to many perspective ‘Keepers’, but this time was different, this time it would change things for many people including Marcus himself. The Arc wrestled with the thought of calling Marcus back and telling him the extent of his part in what was to occur, of giving him a chance to explore the possibilities before hand, but knew that this would be unwise. He knew in his soul that Marcus had to move through and experience, this task without interference.
The Arc sighed, closing his eyes to the world at large trying to calm his spirit and get a feel for what was happening in the world of human-kind. As he quietened himself a sense of dread came over him, a sense of the inevitable… he saw darkness and pain, blood and death. He saw a world changed so greatly that it scarcely resembled the world he knew and loved. His heart actually stopped for several beats before picking up again.
The Arc, opened his eyes, eyes filled with pain and uncertainty “So this is how it will end if she does not succeed!”
Chapter 1
Brindle closed the book she was reading with a sigh and sank further into the pillows surrounding her on her bed. She took several deep breaths and said “Whoa! If only life could be like that!”
She glanced at the stacks of books on her bedside table, not wanting at this moment to see them full on. When she finished reading a good book she usually felt a mixture of ‘high’ and ‘low’. High because of the excitement of discovering the story and low because the story had ended, and this was kind of how she was feeling at the moment.
Finally she sat up and placed her book on one of the stacks and looked at them full on. Her books had become her friends, her salvation at times because she could lose herself in their story. If she lived through others stories, she didn’t need to deal with or consider her own. She could become the heroine; she could become anyone she wanted within the story. She could travel the earth, go to many and varied worlds and discover different peoples human and other and she could do magic, the kind of magic one could only dream of in the normal mundane world she existed in.
Yes, her books were truly her friends, but not today!
As she placed the book on top of a stack her eyes automatically glanced over the books she had read and knew she would soon go back to, then she looked at the ones she hadn’t read yet and the corner of her mouth turned up in a bit of a smile. She moved her hand to pick up a Carpathian novel – the latest one, she’d waited weeks for it and had anticipated reading it. As she reached for the book her hand stopped before it could touch it… kind of frozen in mid-reach for a few seconds before her arm fell back to her side.
Her books had always been her friends, but lately even they weren’t enough!
Brindle sighed unsure of why she’d reacted in this and climbed back onto her queen sized bed, positioning herself in the middle with pillows comfortably around her. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and closing her eyes rested her head on her knees.
Brindle felt confused as to what she was feeling – loss, longing, need… so many things. She lifted her head, took one long deep breath and let it out slowly. She shook her head trying to clear it, then sat quietly for a few seconds before opening her eyes.
She looked around the room taking it all in. This was her bedroom, her haven, her sanctuary, her place of safety and peace. A place where imagination soared and the impossible became possible.
But not today!
Today her room felt small, almost suffocating. Brindle had furnished her bedroom to suit her needs, light and airy with plenty of room to move around. She knew herself well, so knew she’d end up with books scattered everywhere if she didn’t have space to put them and this had been the basis for how she furnished it.
To her left was the doorway into the rest of her home, next to it was her wardrobe, a huge walk-in with room enough for everything including a full-length mirror and dresser where she could do her makeup, dry her hair and so on. At the foot of her bed was a large sandalwood box where she kept an extra blanket and quilt for the colder months and against the wall directly opposite where she sat, was a bookshelf that stretched across the entire wall from floor to ceiling. This was where she put her books – her friends.
She had a bedside table either side of the bed, the one nearer the door was functional on top with an alarm clock, phone and note pad and pen; the other stacked with books. To her right at the end of the bookshelf she had room enough for an overstuffed lounge chair with a soft blue throw rug over the back of it and equally overstuffed footstool in front of it.
The chair was comfortable, and when she sat in it, it almost melded itself to her body. The chair was picked especially so she could curl up in and read, daydream or doze in; it had cost quite a bit, but she had deemed it well worth it. There was also a small side table next to the chair with, you guessed it more books. There was no wall on her right, it was all glass with a series of light and heavy drapes so that either could be used depending on how much light Brindle wanted to let in or keep out. Within the glass close to the head of the bed was a door leading onto a balcony.
The balcony was an extension of her sanctuary, a place she could sit quietly and read or lose herself in the small garden she’d created there. Sometimes Brindle would sit quietly on the balcony with her eyes closed letting her mind drift and enjoy the feel of the breeze on her face and the many scents in the air. There was an outdoor table with two chairs sitting close to the edge of the balcony where she could look out on the river two streets away. Brindle found water had a calming effect on her, so it was an important part of her needs.
There were potted plants in selective place, all giving off soothing scents. Lavender, roses, freesias, rosemary and others, all chosen specifically to help sooth her mind and calm her spirit. Brindle had a screen door installed so she could have the door open letting the scents in and keeping the mosquitoes out.
Brindle looked at the colours of her room, white, soft blues and a hint of lilac, all cool calming healing colours. Even her bed coverings were in the same vein, white with tiny blue cornflowers scattered across the quilt and pillow slips.
Then there was Jake! He’d been with her for a lot of years, he’d been there when no one else had and she knew that no matter what she’d never give him up. She reached beside her for her much loved bear and tucked him under one arm. Not hugging him, but having him close, knowing he was there.
As Brindle sat struggling to understand her emotions, she found she was wishing she was elsewhere. She had no idea where, but somewhere other than where she was. Finally she gave an exasperated “Arhh!” got off the bed abandoning Jake and headed out towards the kitchen abandoning Jake as she did so.
“Sustenance!” She said, figuring what she needed was food, so she began preparing a simple mean of scrabbled eggs, toast and coffee. Not the perfect meal, but she always added some tasty cheese to the fix giving it extra flavour and it would fill her.
She sat at the dining room table and looked at her food. She began toying with it, moving it around with her fork, but when she lifted the fork toward her mouth she all but gagged. She may need food, but her body was saying no to it... which although it didn’t really make sense, kind of fitted her mood. In the end she pushed her plate away and focused on her coffee, at least she’d have something in her stomach, but again she couldn’t partake of it.
Frustrated she took everything to the kitchen; she scraped her meal into the garbage, poured her coffee down the sink and washed everything up leaving it all to dry in the drainer. She was none too happy when she went back to her bedroom and decided part way there that she wasn’t about to spend the rest of the day mooning around inside feeling sorry for herself.
She opened the door to her walk-in and changed into jeans and a cotton shirt, added comfortable shoes and grabbing her keys off the dining room table as she headed for the front door. She knew without even thinking where she’d go; she always ended up walking in the same direction… for the water. There was a small park a couple of streets away right by the water and it was here that she would always end up when she went walking. The water had a calming effect on her and right now she seemed to need it.
She was feeling out of sorts and confused, her emotions were all over the place and she was feeling increasingly restless, like she needed to move, to do something… she just didn’t know what.
If Brindle was honest with herself, she really didn’t know what she was feeling or why. She hoped that spending time by the water would calm her enough to get a grip on things and come to some understanding of what was happening to her. She looked at her watch noting the time; it was just after 2.00pm. This time in the afternoon it was usually pretty quiet at the park. Kids were still in school and people were well past lunch breaks so she’d pretty much have the space to herself.
Brindle breathed in the fresh air as she left her home; it was spring so the air was warm but not too warm. Being Australia, there were days when spring weather could be just as hot as summer and she usually took the precaution of carrying a bottle of water with her.
But not today!
Today, she didn’t even stop to consider if she’d need water or anything else. All she knew was she needed to be outside, she needed space around her, room to move and to feel the air move around her. She took her time walking down to the park, it was all downhill and she was in no real hurry, she was outside now so she could afford to take her time and enjoy the gardens along the way.
She liked this park; it was kind of hidden from everything. It had a small park for the kids cordoned off with a short fence with open spaces to walk through at intervals around it. Closer to the water there were a few benches where people could sit and chat with friends or sit quietly and watch the water and the boats as they moved up and down the river. This is where Brindle headed for now, knowing she needed the calming influence of the water.
She sat quietly on the bench looking out over the water and waited for calm. But it didn’t come! She was growing more and more uneasy with what she was experiencing and although she wasn’t a violent person, she truly wanted to either hit or smash something… very hard.
After a while she got up and started wandering around the edge of the park to the picnic area adjacent. Lots of lush green grass, picnic tables and a few barbeques scattered across the area so that people wouldn’t be stuck to close together and picnicking groups could have their own space.
Back from the picnic area there was more grass and a scattering of shade trees, this is where she headed. She found a spot where she could get the sun filtered through the branches above, where she could hear the sound of the breeze as it moved through the branches above and where she would be able to hear any birds that were near.
Brindle sat on the lush grass and sighed! She scanned the area to see who was around and finding the place empty, she visibly relaxed and lay back on the grass. She looked up at the branches above, noting the different colours of the leaves. The younger ones were lighter than the fully developed ones. She smiled as she thought about what the tree would look like in summer, covered in lilac flowers, always a sign that it was getting closer to Christmas. She had always loved looking across the river and seeing so many jacaranda’s in bloom.
Brindle relaxed even more knowing she was alone here with the water close by, the sounds of nature and the breeze touching her face and brushing through her hair. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift, her imagination soon took hold and images appeared images that only she would or could see.
The first image she saw was a bird of prey, a large eagle soaring through the sky and she wondered what it would feel like to be the bird, to experience the freedom of flight… to soar without a care in the world. Next came the bear, a huge grizzly just watching him you could sense the power he could weald… “Nothing at all like Jake”, she thought as a grin began creeping onto her face. More animals appeared… big cats like the tiger, leopard and cougar, then the wolf, dingo, owl, serpent and even a whale.
Brindle lay quietly watching as each animal appeared to her then slowly faded away, each time wondering what animal would come next. Spirit animals were a part of who she was, in traditional times she would have been able to shift into any animal form she willed, using their speed and endurance to move across large expanses of country.
She came from a people that had been in this country since the beginning of time; she was of the earth and was a descended from a line of people that could utilise their connection with the earth to heal, to change shape and to communicate from a great distance. Brindle often wondered what it would be like to have these abilities now. How would she use them? Would she be able to control them? How different would her life have been with them? She sighed knowing that this was all make believe, from stories past down from the Elders. Stories! Not real at all.
She shook her head a little to clear her thoughts and drifted again. As she lay there more images came to her, but this time they weren’t animals they were people… or kind of people. Mythical types, there was a tall hunk of a man that she could have sworn was the image of a ‘Carpathian’ Warrior, then came the vampires beings as scary as hell and as if to quiet the fear that image brought she saw an Angel. She saw an Angel with the most beautifully serene face she’d ever seen and a smile that coated her heart with sunshine and happiness. And wings… wings that when spread were so glorious they all but took her breath away.
There were other images… beings in the background but she kept them there, not wanting to lose that wondrous sight of such perfection. The Angel had given her a precious gift and she wanted to enjoy it, take in the sense of peace he was engulfing her in, she didn’t want to let it go. For a brief moment she thought, this is it, this is as good as it will ever get. The warmth she was feeling was no longer from the rays of the sun, she knew it was much more than that, what she felt, what she saw was cleaner, purer even than that. She opened herself up to it, wanting more, but also wanting to give what ever she could to this being, even if he was part of her imagination.
A sudden breeze came up, but to Brindle it felt like wings beating and the scent around her was not one of her natural surroundings, but one of a spring garden after a light rain. She went with it, enjoying the sensation of the beating wings and the aroma of spring flowers, and then a shadow fell over her.
At first she thought it was a stray cloud passing over the sun, but it didn’t move, it remained stationary. And she got annoyed believing that someone was standing in front of her blocking out the sun and in doing so, shutting off her connection to the Angel… “What is your name?” She asked and without knowing where it came from she knew, “Marcus!” And she smiled for a moment before the shadow registered again.
Annoyance returned and without opening her eyes she said, “You’re in my sun, move it okay!” The shadow remained, slowly turning annoyance to anger and she reiterated saying, “Get the hell out of my sun!” Still the shadow remained and she was about to lose her temper completely and tell this shadow to bugger off, when it spoke to her.
“Your sun?” Was all that was said and she flew into a sitting position without realising she’d moved; her eyes flying open in anger. Brindle looked at the shadow blinking her eyes to try and focus on him; because it was a ‘him’ the voice was distinctly male.
When she finally got a focus on the man standing before her, she could feel the colour begin to drain from her face. All her life she’d dreamed of, read about, wished and wanted something more than the mundane and here standing in front of her was a being that was anything but mundane.
She opened her mouth to speak, but words seemed to fail her. She looked at him, a man yet not quite whole… not of this world she realised and knew she was completely out of her depth. She had no idea what to say to such a being and even less of an idea as to why he was standing before her.
She sat there looking up at him waiting for him to move or speak or something! When he didn’t she gathered her strength and spoke, “Who are you and want to you want?”
“You grow restless,” he said, “It is time for you to see who you are, what you can be. Soon will be the time when you are needed.” He reached out his hand to her confidently waiting for her to take it. Brindle was more than a little freaked by what was happening, but a voice deep inside her kept saying, “This is what you wanted, to do something, be something special, to know you can make a difference. All you need do is reach out and take his hand… take a chance.”
Brindle took a long slow breath and let it out just as slowly, then surprising herself she reached out for his hand unsure if she could even make contact considering he wasn’t wholly in her world. As he took hold of her hand her surroundings began to change. They shimmered into a slivery gold colour and when they settled she was no longer in the park. She was as she had wished earlier… elsewhere!
She had no idea where she was, but she had the feeling it didn’t matter so much as why she was there. She looked up at her shadow man and he now looked whole, felt whole… she knew this because she was still holding his hand. With a little embarrassment, she let go his hand and put it in the pocket of her jeans not sure what to do now that he obviously had her where he wanted her.
He was watching her, waiting for a reaction and when it was clear she would remain silent he smiled at her and nodded as if saying “Good, now we can begin.”
Brindle knew she should have been afraid, in fact she should have been terrified! But she wasn’t, she felt incredibly calm as if she knew it was right her being there, where ever there was. She looked at her shadow man and thought to herself, “What is your name?” Then it came to her, the words forming in her mind, “My name is Obanab, but that it is but one of the names I have been given over the centuries.”
She looked at him eyes wide, “Your speaking to me in my mind, telepathically aren’t you?” The answer came to her quickly, “Yes,” and he nodded to emphasise it. A broad grin quickly appeared on her face, “Whoa, this is incredible”; she said or was that thought to him? The spoken word was unnecessary here and although he didn’t smile, there was a twinkle in Obanab’s eye telling that he was amused by her excitement.
He beckoned her to follow him and led the way to a small encampment. There was a fire lit in the centre of the camp with a couple of huts at intervals at a short distance from it. He signalled for her to sit across from him, which she did. She sat quietly, expectantly waiting for what would come next. He was busy with a small leather drawstring bag, taking something from it and gently sprinkling it over the fire. The fire immediately surged upward in colours of blue and white before settling down to more natural colours of such a fire.
Brindle took the time to really look at her host. He was ageless, meaning he could be thirty maybe fourty or three hundred and fourty! It was his eyes that gave that away, they were old eyes, brilliant black, eyes as black as coal, eyes that had seen far too much, looked like they wanted perhaps needed to find peace.
Sadness suddenly overwhelmed Brindle, she could see Obanab for what he was, a ‘God’ of sorts a magic man who would have held much power in his time and perhaps still did. She wondered what people he came from, if he were from her line… was he one of her Ancestors come to help her fulfil her destiny? Right then it didn’t matter, all that mattered to her was that this man needed her there, she felt this in her very being and she was determined to do right by him.
She looked at him again and realised that he would appear in what ever form she wished. If she was comfortable with him being Native American then that’s what he was, if she was more at home with him being one of her own people he could be that also. She wondered what his true essence was, was he whole or pure spirit?
She realised he was chanting softly, ancient words that were soothing and had a sense of purpose to them, words that somehow felt familiar and then she was chanting with him. The chant seemed to put her in a state of openness, one of calm and acceptance of what might happen. Brindle was conscience of all this and let herself go with the flow of this incredible experience. What ever happened here with this man, this being, she knew she would never forget it and that she would somehow never be quite the same again.
Brindle’s mind picked up on flashes of images, like seeing a movie run really fast, but even though it was fast, she could understand what she was being shown. She was seeing the past! A past she had no knowledge of, one where beings such and Obanab walked the earth and intermingled with humans… not all humans, but those who had been deemed ready to accept them.
She saw the world not just her country, but the world from its earliest stages. She saw different peoples, their way of life changing quickly, giving her a sense of life really being too short, and feeling a need to do more not just for herself but for those she could touch in a meaningful way.
She saw happiness and joy in the lives she was shown, but she also saw the horror of what many had to live through, wars, hunger, and torture and not always at the hands of men… of humans. She saw other races of peoples living within the midst of human kind and she saw others living on the edges, protecting themselves from prying eyes and misunderstandings. Worst of all she saw demons, demons of many kinds and the pain and horror that they found such pleasure in inflicting on others. She soon realised that in essence what she was being shown was both the best and worst of mankind.
Her mind took it all in, knowing that it was too much information all at once, but somehow knowing that she would be able to cope with it and that she would be capable of sorting through it all pulling out what ever information she needed at any given time in the future.
“Oh crap!” She thought, “I guess I really do have a purpose for being, some kind of destiny!” And she wondered if her moods, her erratic emotional state and feelings of restlessness had all been related to what she was now experiencing, if they were a lead up to meeting Obanab. Deep inside she believed it so, but didn’t want to voice this to him, there were things she needed to work out and this wasn’t that important in the scheme of what she figured might be coming up.
Brindle had no idea how long they had been chanting, nor could she truly comprehend the amount of information that had been given to her during this time; she just knew in her words that it was “A shit load of info.” And to give her credit, she simply accepted that it was given freely to her and that she would need it at some stage.
When finally she found herself sitting quietly again, she looked up to see where her shadow friend was. He was moving towards her with a bowl filled with a clear liquid, holding his arms out towards her offering it to her. Her lips were dry and her throat felt parched, so she accepted the water gratefully. He sat down across from her again and waited until she had finished drinking. When Brindle looked up again he began…
Mind to mind he spoke and she listened. “You come from a line of people that have in times past been called upon to help keep the balance of the peoples of the earth. You have been given knowledge of the past, both good and bad, knowledge you will need to help counter the evil that is trying to take hold once again.”
Brindle listened in wonder, unsure if she should ask questions, if she should be shocked or afraid, she sensed the importance of what she was being told and didn’t want to miss anything, so she concentrated and tried to remember everything that Obanab said. Way in the back of her mind a single word sat waiting, wanting to burst forth and announce itself…’Monumental!’
Brindle knew that what ever this all was, it was truly monumental and she was to be a major part of it. She held firm though and kept this word, this thought where it was knowing full well that if it came to the forefront of her mind she’d lose her concentration and she somehow knew she couldn’t afford for that to happen.
Obanab spoke of an evil that came to light if left unchecked, he spoke of Watchers who had become complacent, of races of people that were the first port of call should there be danger and he spoke of the decimation of many of there peoples causing the safe guards to fail.
He looked her squarely in the eye and said, “You are our last line of resistance! You are the last in your line of Keepers.”
It was at these words that Brindle reacted. “Whoa, whoa and now way!” She stated. “I am not nor will I ever be anyone’s keeper or last line of resistance! I’m sorry Obanab, but you’ve got the wrong girl.”
Brindle looked at him shock and surprise written all over her face, there was no way she was the person he was looking for. She had no skills to stop evil, nor did she have the guts to even try. She was no coward, but she wasn’t an idiot either! She shook her head at him and kept saying, “Nope, you’ve got the wrong person.”
Obanab waited patiently for Brindle to say her piece and quiet herself before he spoke again. “There is no mistake little one, you are the last descendent in your line, untrained true, but you are the one. You are the Keeper!”
Brindle looked at him knowing that what he said was the truth, she opened her mouth and a single word came out, a word which kind of said it all as far as she was concerned! “Crap!”
She sat there willing herself to remain calm and consider what he’d said. She wasn’t exactly sure what this all meant in regards to what she would be expected to do, but she also knew she wasn’t a quitter and she’d do what ever she could to fulfil her ‘destiny’… “Oh crap!” She thought to herself again.
“Okay,” she finally said to him. “You’re gonna have to explain what all this means and what it is I’m supposed to do. I can’t promise I’ll be all you want me to be, but I’ll do my best.” She shook her head as if to show him he was barking up the wrong tree but as she looked at him she was surprised to see a smile on his face.
“You are so much more than you believe little one, don’t sell yourself short. You will do yourself and your Ancestors proud and if you die in the trying, then your story will become legend.”
“Great!” said Brindle, “Just what every girl wants; to die and become a legend!” She put her face in her hands not exactly sure what she had now committed herself to. She sighed and lifted her head looking directly into Obanab’s eyes and said, “Okay old man, now what?”
His smile returned and so did the light in his eyes; he seemed pleased with what she had said but she also detected that she’d amused him as well. It was then that she realised that he was probably reading her thoughts, not just listening to her speak through them.
She watched his gaze steadily and waited for him to speak, when he didn’t she figured it was okay to ask a few questions. Speaking mind to mind she began with the images she’d seen. “When I was lying on the grass, I saw images of animals. What was that all about?”
Obanab nodded and said, “Good, you need to ask questions, you need to understand as much as you can before you go”. She looked at him harder as if she was trying to push him into answering her question and he smiled again. “The animals are as brothers and sisters to us, to you. You can utilise their shapes and abilities to suit your needs.”
She thought about this for a moment, and then looked at him with wide eyed surprise. “You’re telling me I can shift… I mean I can shape shift into any of the animals I saw?”
“Yes, little one, those animals and more” he said waiting for the next question.
Brindle didn’t know whether to feel excited, scared to death or completely awed by what he’d said. She settled for awed, awed she could deal with right then.
“Umm, okay what about the other images I saw, ‘others’… not quiet human ‘others’.” She was watching him warily, unsure of what he might do or say next, but what happened next she truly didn’t expect. A huge grin spread over his face and his entire face seemed to light up, he was ageless, but now he somehow seemed younger, more alive.
Brindle kept her eyes on him thinking if he started laughing at her, she was out of there; she was going to walk and she wasn’t coming back! She didn’t stop to consider where she’d actually walk to as she didn’t know exactly where she was.
She kept calm and watched waiting for his response. “There are ‘others’ little one, some long gone from this earth, ‘others’… you will perhaps meet.” He looked at her and his smile broadened; something she didn’t think was possible. She waited. “Little one, there is no such thing as a Carpathian Warrior.”
Brindle could feel heat rise in her face as she blushed, she blushed way too easily and she hated it. She’d been thinking of the image she saw, the one that so fitted the description of a Carpathian. She lowered her head not wanting Obanab to see, wanting to fan her face, but also not wanting to look foolish or juvenile. The blush would pass and she sensed that her asking questions wasn’t just about her getting answers, she believed it was also about him assessing her capabilities.
After a few moments she looked at him again. “Right, then,” she said, “You said that I might meet ‘others’.” Regretfully she put aside all thoughts of Carpathian hunks and for the moment focused on something else. “Who is Marcus?”
Obanab’s facial features changed from amusement to something close to reverence, Brindle wasn’t quite sure what to make of that so left it alone. “Very good little one; Marcus is your Guide, your Guardian. He will be with you throughout your journeys. He will guide you, protect you and advise you when necessary and you will be able to call upon him when you need him.”
“Umm, okay so no Carpathian, but I do get an Angel!”
“Angel?” He said a slightly confused look on his face. Brindle rolled her eyes and said, “Umm yeah I saw his wings, felt his light, I asked him his name… and he answered me.”
Obanab seemed a little surprised by what she’d said and was quiet for a minute as if sifting through his thoughts. While he was doing this Brindle started talking, she talked when she was nervous or afraid and in this case she was both.
“You know I think it’s a shame there aren’t any Carpathians, they’d come in handy if there were any trouble. I mean they are strong and confident and mm so hunky”. She looked at him then to see if he’d react to that last part and found him looking at her calmly, listening to her ramble on.
She sighed, “Okay, okay, enough with the Carpathian! But who or what was the image I saw that looked like one?” Obanab didn’t answer, and she somehow knew he wouldn’t, but things were getting way too heavy and she was feeling completely overwhelmed. “So I’m guessing I’ll find out who he is in time huh?” Obanab’s only answer was a slight nod of his head.
Brindle let out a sigh and shook her head from side to side. “I have to tell you Obanab, I’m no hero. The only heroes I know are ones in books. They have been my friends for a long time and in them I can be the hero or heroine… what ever. But in real life….”
Brindles expression saddened, she had to be honest with herself and with her shadow friend. “What I’m trying to say is that I know I’m who you say I am. I can feel the rightness of what you have said, but that doesn’t make this any easier, it doesn’t make me believe I can do what ever it is you think I can.” She looked at him then asking, “What the hell is it you want me to do anyway, I’m not even trained, you said so yourself?”
Obanab looked at Brindle, concern on his face for the first time. “You will soon discover all little one, there is time enough for you to ease into this.” “Screw that!” Brindle said, “You fill my head full of stuff… images and don’t say you didn’t they had to come from somewhere! You stand in my sun then drag me to god only knows where and fill my head full of crap, then won’t even give me the courtesy telling what the hell it is you want me to do! I don’t think so!”
Brindle sat dead straight, her legs crossed in front of her and her hands on her hips putting as much defiance and anger into how she looked as she could. She waited for Obanab to say something, anything, but he didn’t and that just pushed her anger up another notch.
“Right!” She said, “If you can’t be straight with me then we’re done! I want out, send me back to the park where you found me and go find some other last line of resistance.”
Brindle couldn’t believe she’d just told off what she figured was an Ancient, some heavy duty type of Guardian or Watcher, some spiritual being, but she’d done it and she was not about to wait around for him to retaliate against her bad temper.
She stood up not really sure what she was going to do, hoping he’d get the gist and send her home. She stood there looking down on Obanab for a few minutes wondering if she should sit back down or just take off. She could feel her temper rising again and glared at him.
“Very well little one, you need time to digest what has transpired here today, you have been given a great amount of information to consider and once you have had time to do so we will speak again.” Brindle could feel herself kind of fading or swaying then realising he was sending her back she called out, “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you, unless I get some straight answers I’m not going to be your…” and she was gone. She closed her eyes feeling way too woozy, when she felt like she’d, for want of a better description come back down to earth she opened her eyes.
She expected to find herself back in the park where he’d found her, but as her eyes focused on her surroundings she saw that she was back in her bedroom stretched out on her bed. She lay there for the longest time considering what had happened, not sure if what she’d just experienced was an after effect of the books she’d been reading, a nightmare or god forbid real.
She slowly turned her head unsure if the wooziness would return and not wanting to find out. She looked at her clock to see what the time was and her eyes went wide with shock. She had bought this particular digital clock because it not only showed the time, it also showed the date and looking at the clock now it showed that it was 7.35pm… two days after she’d taken her walk to the park. Brindle closed her eyes not sure if she wanted to get up or not, one word coming to mind.
“Crap!”
Chapter 2
Brindle drifted in and out of sleep knowing that she’d dreamt, dreamt dreams of eras past, of times when the world was ruled by different laws, different peoples and in the midst of these dreams she found herself wandering if it was a dream or a re-play of the past.
She saw the great pyramids being built, each large stone being dragged into place by people who were utilised as slaves, used to produce a monument to those of power. She saw within these people a strength that held them together as a people, a belief that their lives had a purpose and that they would not always be so enslaved. She found herself in a great hall, with white pillars majestically holding up the ceiling. A feast was in progress; people were not only eating and drinking but also becoming familiar with each other… familiar in the biblical sense.
Brindle wandered why she was there, she was not part of what was going on, she was on the edge watching, taking it all in. As she glanced around the hall she saw people moving away to private areas in twos and sometimes threes. She felt herself sigh and noting that there was no guessing where they were going or what for. She turned her attention to other areas of the hall; it was spacious with a great table set with food and drink. Servants moved in and out seeing that the table was always full, then out of the corner of her eye she saw something, or was that someone…
She blinked and found herself in another time, another era. The air was cool; she didn’t feel it so much as sensed it. The people wore winter clothing, old fashioned, reminding her of the peasants in an old Robin Hood movie only somehow much older. She looked around trying to figure out why she was there; she was starting to believe there had to be a reason for it all.
She had free movement, she could not only turn her head but she could move around the area and took advantage of this walking out towards a group of people carrying great ropes and what looked like ancient tools. As she got closer she had an urge to turn around and as she did her breath left her. She stood as if frozen to the spot watching what was taking place.
She had seen a great pyramid being built in Egypt, a magnificent feat, but this, this was so much more! In an instant she knew exactly where she was and exactly what was happening. Stonehenge! A place she had always wanted to visit one day, a place she felt had natural power to those who were aware, those who were connected to the earth.
Brindle had heard the phrase ‘my jaw hit the floor’ in the past and thought little of it, but now in that moment her jaw pretty much hit the floor. She was completely and utterly gobsmacked. She moved forward slowly wanting to get closer to the stones, wanting to feel their power and the power they brought forth from the earth. But she felt a pull, and turned towards once again almost, but not quite seeing someone, someone she felt was familiar to her. She turned back to the stones but was too late; she’d already passed on to another time and place.
This time she was in the mountains, she had no idea where they were, what country she was in or even what era. The mountains were huge, stark but somehow beautiful, breathtakingly so. She stood still for a moment trying to get her bearings then began to look around. She couldn’t see any great buildings or monuments here, what she saw was a village filled with people going about their lives.
She checked out the clothing using this to try and figure out the era, but this was difficult. There were shops scattered along the main road, a road that lead to a church at the end. There were people standing out the front of it, a woman was crying, the others were trying to comfort her and the priest stood a little away as if he didn’t want to be tainted by her.
This truly confused Brindle, a priest was supposed to be there for the people, he should have been the first person to offer comfort and support. As she got closer to the group Brindle could hear some of the words being spoken, unclean, undead, he can not be put to rest… not here.
Brindles stomach clenched as she realised what was happening and she thought she was going to be ill… a random thought came to her, “Can I dream and throw up at the same time?” She knew that the undead couldn’t be buried on hallowed ground and that’s exactly what they were talking about.
She’d guessed rightly that the woman’s husband had been turned, was soon to become one of the undead, the woman praying that if he were to be buried on hallowed ground that he wouldn’t rise… wouldn’t become a monster. She knew better of course and so did the priest. They had to dispose of the body and quickly… before nightfall, before he could rise.
She turned slightly not wanting to see anymore of what was happening, the pitiful woman fighting for her husband to be buried with dignity and knowing that he would never find rest if he was simply buried. Again she saw him… and it was a he. Each time she seemed to see a little more of this person, this person who for what ever reason seemed so familiar to her. He was wearing a cape with the hood up and in his hand; he was holding a stake…
Brindle’s eyes flew open and she swore! “Crap! Crap, crap, crap! Why the hell didn’t I look at his face!” She rolled over to check the clock and groaned it was 6.00am way too early to be wide away. She knew herself well, she was too far awake now to go back to sleep, so she got up and headed for the bathroom.
She took a very long hot shower relaxing under the feel of the water as it hit her back and shoulders. She washed her hair and let the spray of water hit her face, needing to know that she truly was awake and not in some other time, era or place, but safe in her own home.
She dried off with a big soft towel, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a tee-shirt put on her uggies and dried her hair. She needed routine, the things she did everyday to maintain the fact that everything that happened before she woke up was just a ‘dream’. Although she had to admit to herself that if any part of it were true, the shape shifting and that hunk would have been nice.
Brindle shook her head and told herself to snap out of it. “You’re just feeling lonesome girl, lonesome and sorry for yourself.” She finished off her hair and headed for the kitchen, her heart needed a kick start and coffee was the perfect medicine.
She made a pot of coffee and when it was ready she fixed herself some vegemite toast and headed not for the dining room table but for the living room. She put her coffee mug and toast on the coffee table, turned on the TV and headed for the bookshelf with her collection of DVD’s giving them the once over trying to decide what to watch. She needed a distraction and it had always been easy losing herself in a good movie.
She looked over the usual ones, Buffy, Angel and Supernatural she rolled her eyes and thought, “Not today!” She ended up with one of Whoopi Goldberg’s, ‘Jumping Jack Flash’ a classic! Whoopi always made her laugh and right then she really needed to find something to laugh about.
She sat on the couch and got comfortable then hit play on the controls. She sipped her coffee and found it tasted like mud… she wasn’t really sure what mud tasted like, but she was pretty sure it would be close to what the coffee tasted like. She picked up a piece of toast off the plate and just looked at it. She tried taking a bite but couldn’t bring herself to do so. “This is crazy”, she told herself, “I should be starving, I haven’t eaten in almost three days.”
She hit the pause button and disposed of her breakfast, leaving it sitting on the table with the strong smell of coffee would not bode well with her stomach. She came back and started the movie again wanting nothing more than to put the last how ever many days out of her mind. The dreams had been way too real and scary as hell. She looked at the screen and said, “A good dose of Whoopi is exactly what I need!”
Over the next couple of days Brindle had seemingly put those three days behind her, at least that was what she kept telling herself. She was fine during the day and kept busy, she worked from home freelancing; she had an office set up in her space room and she worked for several companies doing research from time to time and even did a bit of work for the church… the church being the local Catholic Church, St Dominic’s.
Her Uncle was a priest at St Dominic’s, Father Adrian he was her only living blood relative and he didn’t want to lose contact with her, so put a bit of work her way when he could. At the moment she was working a couple of days a week for the church, it was mostly boring stuff sorting through old papers, books, diaries and ledgers cataloguing and writing up information and she could work what ever days she had free. The bonus was that she got access to the church archives and there were a great many old books and papers that drew her, the majority not for public access. She couldn’t work from home with this though and they’d set up a small area for her to work in.
She’d lost a few days this week not really knowing for certain how and truthfully not wanting to find out. She promised her Uncle she’d meet him for coffee later that day and knew that if she put him off or just didn’t show he’d be on her doorstep asking questions. She considered her options and said out loud, “You don’t stand up Father Adrian!” She scowled thinking about this when all she wanted to do was veg out in front of the TV and forget all about the world.
She checked the clock on DVD the player and sighed, “Okay I’ll just go in do a bit of work, meet with Uncle – Father Adrian, then come back here and veg. Simple.”
Brindle turned off the movie and the TV and headed back to her room. She opened the double doors to her walk in and said… “Comfort, I don’t have to look like a fashion plate, after all I’ll be working with dusty old books and ledgers.” She settled for dress jeans, a shirt, her comfy old boots and a denim jacket. She grabbed her backpack from where she’d left it in the doorway of her office grabbed her keys and headed for the door.
It was a fifteen minute walk to the St Dominic’s, she contemplated driving then headed down the street, the walk would do her good, she hadn’t been outside in days and she wanted to stretch her legs. It was still early, so she took her time enjoying the feeling of being in the outdoors, the scent of roses, jasmine and freesias and the multitude of colours in the gardens lightened her mood and actually put a spring in her step.
As St Dominic’s came into view Brindle was feeling pretty good, a lot happier than she had in days. She walked up the steps at the front of the church and the happy feeling began to slowly melt away. She felt uneasy and had no idea why. She scanned the area but everything appeared the same as always. She started to turn towards the laneway on the left side of the church when something caught her eye.
She turned and headed for the other side of the church wanting to find out what or who it was she’d seen, but when she got there the area was deserted. Brindle shook her head, “Get a grip girl, now you’re imagining things.” She turned around and headed for the entry way to the church at the side of the building. The doorway that led to the library and archives where she had a work station set up.
It was Saturday and as she figured the place was empty, she scowled at herself saying, “Even priests have more of social life than I do.” She mumbled a few inappropriate words under her breath and headed for her work area. She opened her backpack and smiled, she always kept a bottle of water and some munchies in her bag just in case and there right in front of her at the top of her back pack was a bottle of water. It wasn’t cold, but she was use to drinking water at room temperature.
She picked up the bottle and opened it taking a small sip. She wasn’t sure what was happening with her stomach so was being cautious about eating or drinking. Although if that morning was any indication, she didn’t need to worry about eating ever again!
There wasn’t much light in the room, supposedly to prevent damage to some of the ancient books and ledges. She knew they should have employed a qualified archivist, but money was tight and she was about all the church could afford. Brindle had a great deal of experience in research and knew how to handle old and sensitive artefacts and she figured her Uncle had talked the powers that be into hiring her
She set to work and as always when Brindle focused on a project, she got lost it in, she forgot the time. She was looking through and old ledger, one that seemed old, perhaps ancient at least by her standards, when she heard someone clear their throat.
Brindle stayed focused on what she was doing not even acknowledging she’d heard them. She finishing her cursory inspection and wrote notes on the note pad next to her. She always worked this way, a cursory look taking notes then she would set a good amount of time to do the real work, time where she would not be disturbed. When she was satisfied with her notes, she placed the ledger back in its protective cover and put it beside her note pad.
She took off her work gloves putting them in the top draw of the desk then looked up, she had assumed that it was her Uncle Adrian, but it was Father James. Father James was in charge of the Library and the archives. Although he’d given her free reign over the archives telling her she would have a better idea than he as to what should be done with the many documents, books, ledgers and diaries that had somehow found there way there. Therefore they were the only two who had any real access to the place.
Brindle smiled at him in greeting and he grinned back easily. They had become friends of sorts, not that Brindle had many friends… at least not close ones. He asked how she was going with her work waving a hand to encompass the entire room. She laughed and said, “It was going slow, but it was going and they both laughed.”
She looked at him curiously and wondering what he was doing there, as she thought he spent Saturdays coaching the local soccer team. “Umm how come you’re here Father James, it’s Saturday?” “Oh,” he replied, “I have a package for you, I was on my way to meet the kids for a training session when I was asked to deliver this to you personally.” Then he lifted his right hand offering a package to her.
Brindle smiled at him again thanking him for bringing it down to her. She reached for the package and as she touched it her heart began to beat faster almost to taking on a life of its own. She looked over the package quickly noting it had no postage or courier stamps or labels, then placed it in her back pack. Curiosity grew and she asked the priest who had given him the package. Father James looked slightly confused and she could see he struggled to remember, then he said that a man he’d never seen before handed it to him asking him to be kind enough to hand it to her personally. Brindle watched him carefully aware that he was struggling with his thoughts.
“Brindle,” said Father James, “This man also asked me to give you a message.” She tilted her head to the side as if considering the message he’d been asked to deliver and she said, “What was the message Father?” “Oh, yes of course” he replied, “He asked me to tell you that you would be in need of its contents soon, that you should take a leap of faith and believe and that you should take great care with this book as it is old and precious to the Keepers.”
At the mention of the word ‘Keepers’ Brindles stomach clenched and knotted. “This couldn’t be real; this had to be some kind of joke,” she thought to herself. Father James looked concerned and asked if she was alright, if she’d gotten into any trouble and said that if she needed help he was there as was her uncle and the rest of the church. She grinned at him and said there was nothing to worry about, it was just a friend playing games and she’s sort him out. He nodded accepting her words, but she could see he wasn’t altogether assured of her safety.
She thought it best to change the subject and asked if he’d seen her Uncle. The tension in the room must have been incredible, because neither had heard Father Adrian enter room and the first they knew of his presence was when he called out his greetings as he came through the doorway. Both Brindle and Father James jumped.
Father Adrian clapped Father James on the shoulder as he walked past him to give his niece a hug. Father James said his goodbyes and left uncle and niece facing each other. A thought suddenly came to Brindle… “Just how long had Uncle Adrian been in the doorway listening before he spoke?
Did he have any idea what was happening to her and most importantly would he be able to help? In an instant she decided she would not involve her uncle, she didn’t really know what if anything there was to involve him in and she wasn’t about to tell him about her dreams. So she turned off her desk lamp, grabbed her backpack and took his arm asking if he was ready to go.
As they left the grounds of the church Brindle felt a sense of loss, something she had never experienced before at least not in leaving a church. “This is getting crazier and crazier,” she told herself. She kept up what she hoped was a normal conversation with her uncle and hoped that the strange look in his eye was not because of what Father James had said.
When they arrived at the café they grabbed a table by the window, Brindle always liked sitting by the window so she could watch the world go by, or at least the people in her little part of it. Father Adrian ordered a cappuccino and a biscotti and Brindle ordered a bottle of water.
Father Adrian looked carefully at his niece and said, “Are you alright Bree, are you eating, you look a little pale?” Brindle could feel her face begin to flush and hoped it would pass and not show too much. “I’m fine she lied. She truly loved her Uncle; he was the only person she let call her Bree, partly because he was a Priest but mostly because that’s what he’d called since she was really little. I’m just not feeling hungry is all.” He nodded then raised an eyebrow and she could feel her nerves taking hold and said, “What?”
Her Uncle smiled but the look on his face was one of concern, “No coffee either? I thought that was something you took intravenously to keep the flow going?” “Very funny” she said, “I’m just trying to cut down, too much coffee is not conducive to a good nights sleep.”
“Okay,” he said, “I won’t push, but if you need me I’m here alright.” Brindle grinned at her Uncle, she loved him and not just as an Uncle he’d been like a big brother and at times even a father to her over the years. He was her only family and she’d do anything for him… do anything to keep him safe and in that instant she realised that what ever was going on, she would keep him out of it. She would keep him safe!
Then it happened again! Out of the corner of her eye she saw what was slowly becoming a familiar figure pass by. She got to her feet, hugged her Uncle kissed his cheek, grabbed her backpack and the bottle of water the waitress had just placed on the table and as she walked quickly out of the café she called back, “I gotta go, but I’ll call in a day or so okay.” And at that she left her Uncle, Father Adrian sitting at the table watching her run down the street wondering what on earth she’d gotten herself in to.
He shook his head and looked at his coffee, he knew her, trusted her judgement and also knew that when and if she needed help she’d come to him. He just had to have faith in her and wait. He laughed softly at his own thoughts, “Faith,” he said, “It kind of goes with the job.” Then he picked up his cappuccino and drank.
As Brindle flew down the street she pushed thoughts of her Uncle to the back ground, she’d figure out what to say to him later, right now she needed to find this elusive person she only ever caught glimpses of. As she came to the corner of the street she was prepared to yell out to him, to get his attention in any way she could.
She needed to know who he was, and she was determined to find out why she kept seeing him, even if it was only glimpses. Brindle turned the corner and almost screamed in frustration, the street was all but empty, the few people she did see were people she recognised. She stamped her foot and wanted to hit something she was so angry. She swore furiously then turned on her heel and headed for home.
By the time Brindle got to her front door she had calmed down, she knew something was going on and she was starting to come to terms with what had happened a few days ago… that maybe it wasn’t a dream, maybe it was real. She was feeling tired and knew she should be hungry, ravenous in fact, but the thought of food almost turned her stomach.
As Brindle put the key in the lock she got a feeling that she was being watched, that she wasn’t alone and it unnerved her. She was suddenly very afraid and unsure of what to do, even if there was anything she could do. She carefully locked the door behind her dumped her backpack on the couch and wandered through her home making sure every door and window was securely locked. Only then did she sit on the couch and let the events of the past few days swamp her.
The park and the images she’d seen, the shadow man… Obanab, the campsite and what had happened there, the dream like memories of the past, the constant glimpses of some stranger that also seemed somehow familiar to her… and today, Father James and the package and the café and seeing the figure again. And always never being able to catch up to him, never seeing who he was or what he wanted. Then she remembered the book.