The main street of New Norfolk unfurled before us like a tapestry of everyday life, its vibrant hum punctuated by the quaint charm of its stores. As I steered the car to a stop, I could sense Leigh's curiosity peaking, his gaze ensnared by the antique store's inviting façade. "Is that where we're going?" he inquired, his voice a blend of bemusement and intrigue.
"No, not quite," I responded, my lips curving into a playful smile, savouring the little surprise I had in store. "We're headed to a little shop just over here," I indicated, nodding towards a modest establishment across the street, its unassuming appearance belying the vital role it was about to play.
Stepping into the pet shop was like entering a different realm, one ruled by a symphony of animal sounds and a kaleidoscope of movement. The air was thick with the scents of sawdust and animal dander. The shop was a riot of life; cages and tanks were arranged in meticulous rows, each housing its own little universe. Cats lounged with feline nonchalance, their eyes tracking our movements with detached interest. Puppies tumbled over each other in their eagerness to play, their yaps and barks a vibrant soundtrack to the shop's lively atmosphere. Rabbits and guinea pigs huddled in corners or nibbled on food, while the aquarium section was a mesmerising display of colour and movement, exotic fish gliding through their watery domains.
The familiar timbre of Johnny's voice sliced through the ambient noise of the pet shop, pulling me back from my brief immersion in the animal kingdom around us. "Beatrix, I haven't seen you here for a while," he called out, his approach marked by the swish of his green apron.
"I know, I've been busy," I responded, offering him a smile tinged with regret. My words, simple on the surface, carried a deeper significance—a coded message between old allies. "But I needed to pick up a few things for my reptiles, so I figured I'd stop by." The casual mention of reptiles was our agreed-upon signal, a subtle indicator of the true nature of my visit.
Johnny's acknowledgment was swift and understanding. "Ah, of course," he replied, his nod laden with unspoken knowledge. "You're wanting to see the other stuff?" His casual question, paired with a discreet gesture towards a nondescript door at the back of the shop, signalled the transition from public storefront to the clandestine purpose of our visit.
"Please," I confirmed, feeling a spark of anticipation ignite within me. My eyes, I hoped, conveyed the gratitude and urgency I felt, unable to express in words.
We navigated past the final row of tanks, their inhabitants oblivious to the layers of human intrigue unfolding around them. Johnny opened the door, revealing a small, dimly lit room that felt worlds away from the lively storefront we had just left. The hatch in the floor was already open, an invitation to the secrets that lay beneath.
With a brief nod of thanks to Johnny, I led Leigh to the staircase. The narrow steps descended into the basement's gloom, a stark contrast to the shop's vibrancy. Each step downward felt like a further detachment from the ordinary world above, our descent marking our transition into the realm of covert operations and hidden agendas.
The staircase creaked beneath our feet, its echoes bouncing off the close walls, amplifying the mix of anticipation and unease that emanated from Leigh. His presence behind me was a steady reminder of the shared journey we were on, his emotions palpable in the close confines of our descent.
At the staircase's end, the subterranean room unfolded before us, dimly lit yet unmistakably alive with an undercurrent of clandestine energy. Jarod stood at the room's core, a python draped around him like a statement of his connection to the wild and unpredictable.
"Maggie!" I couldn't contain my excitement, my voice a blend of joy and surprise as I approached the familiar creature. My fingers reached out, brushing against her scales, the sensation familiar and comforting. Maggie's response, a gentle flick of her tongue, felt like a silent acknowledgment of our bond.
"Hey, Beatrix," Jarod's voice, laced with a playful undertone, pulled my attention from Maggie. His smile was infectious, his eyes a spark of mischief in the dim light. "Glad you could finally show up."
A tinge of embarrassment coloured my response. "Sorry I'm late," I admitted, my voice carrying a note of regret. The myriad tasks that had delayed my arrival seemed trivial now, in the face of Jarod's casual acceptance. "I had to finish up a job before I could come," I added, skirting around the core of our visit, not yet ready to dive into the depths of our purpose here.
Jarod's shrug was a testament to the timelessness of our underground surroundings. "No problem, we've got all the time in the world down here," he said, his voice a blend of ease and detachment. "So, you've changed your mind about us working together again?”
His question hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation, stirring a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions within me. The weight of our past collaborations, the successes and the frictions, all came rushing back, mingling with the present tension and the uncertain future. In this secluded world, away from the sun's reach, the possibility of reigniting our partnership sparked a complex tapestry of hope, doubt, and determination.
Introducing Leigh to Jarod felt like bridging two worlds—my past with Jarod, tangled and complex, and my present, with Leigh, still so fresh and undefined. "I wanted to introduce Leigh to you properly," I said, using the introduction as a buffer to momentarily divert from Leigh’s tempting offer. "You remember him from the casino the other night, don't you?” My hand swept toward Leigh, presenting him as more than just another face from the crowd at the casino.
"Yeah, I remember," Jarod responded, his hand extending toward Leigh with a hint of reluctance. The handshake was a formal acknowledgment, yet the air buzzed with an unspoken tension, a dance of unfamiliarity and caution. Leigh's grip was firm, despite the obvious unease that shimmered in his gaze.
Leigh's voice, laced with a mix of wonder and apprehension, broke the momentary silence. "So, what do you have down here?" he inquired, his eyes scanning the shadowy corners of the basement, where the outlines of various cages and tanks hinted at the hidden life within.
Jarod's reply, delivered with a playful wink, was quintessentially him—vague yet intriguing. "Oh, all sorts of things," he said, his tone light yet laden with the promise of secrets nestled in the depths of this underground sanctuary. "You never know what you might find in the secret basement of a pet shop."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes at Jarod's flair for the dramatic. Some things never change, and Jarod's love for mystique was one of them. Yet, beneath the surface of our banter and the curious glances exchanged between Leigh and Jarod, a current of seriousness pulsed through me.
Surrounded by the dim light and the peculiar chorus of sounds from the concealed creatures, my heart raced with a cocktail of emotions. The familiarity of Jarod's presence, the novelty of having Leigh by my side, and the gravity of our clandestine meeting—all these elements wove together, heightening my sense of urgency. It was time to peel away the veneer of casual introductions and cryptic exchanges. It was time to delve into the heart of why we were here, in the shadowy underbelly of New Norfolk, standing amidst the whispers of hidden beasts and buried agendas.
"Jarod, we need to talk to you about something of the utmost importance," I announced, my tone shedding any remnants of casual banter.
I watched as the levity drained from Jarod's face, replaced by a focused attentiveness. "What is it?" he inquired, his usual lighthearted demeanour giving way to earnest concern.
Leigh, caught up in the moment's urgency, looked to me, his eyes flickering with a mix of resolve and uncertainty. Without waiting for my cue, he spilled our secret. "Beatrix and I are Guardians," he declared, his voice a mix of pride and nervous energy.
Jarod's reaction was unexpected—a chuckle, as if the gravity of Leigh's words hadn't fully landed. "Come again?" he asked, an eyebrow raised in bemusement.
Leigh started to repeat himself, but I intervened, steering the conversation in a direction that might allow better context. "Do you know why you were released from police custody so easily?" I questioned, my tone firm, aiming to draw his attention to the larger picture while masking my annoyance at Leigh's premature revelation.
Jarod's hand instinctively moved to the cut above his eye, a reminder of the brutality he had faced. "I wouldn't say it was that easy," he retorted, the humour fading from his expression as he recalled the unjustified violence from Officer Cribthorpe at the casino.
The remembrance of Cribthorpe stirred a potent mix of anger and revulsion within me. The officer's unprovoked aggression towards Jarod and his sleazy advances towards me at the casino were vivid in my memory, fuelling a burning desire for justice. Standing there, in the dimly lit basement, surrounded by the sounds of unseen animals, I felt a surge of resolve. It was time to reveal the depth of the corruption we were up against and to enlist Jarod's help in our fight—not just as a former ally, but as a fellow victim of the system we were determined to challenge.
"I was told they had made an error of judgment and that all charges had been dropped." His voice, tinged with skepticism, echoed Leigh’s words to me earlier about the so-called 'error of judgment.'
I felt a surge of urgency, needing to make Jarod understand the gravity of our position. "They were going to bring you down, Jarod, but Leigh put a stop to it. He has–" My words were cut short by Leigh's cautionary glance, a silent plea to tread carefully with our revelations.
"Beatrix," Leigh's warning was clear, yet I knew we needed Jarod's trust and cooperation. I nodded subtly, acknowledging his concern, then turned back to Jarod. "It's okay," I said, striving for a balance between transparency and discretion. "Leigh has connections in the police department. Connections that can only protect us for so long." My words were deliberate, designed to underscore our shared vulnerability and the transient nature of our safety net.
"Hang on a minute. Let's go back to this Guardian thing," Jarod demanded, his gaze shifting between us, seeking the truth in our faces.
The tension in the room was palpable, a tangible cloud of doubt and suspicion. It was then that Maggie, ever perceptive to the emotions around her, began to move restlessly on Jarod's shoulders. I watched her stretch out toward me, a silent witness to our human complexities. Stepping closer, I allowed her to transition to my shoulder, her presence a welcome, grounding contact. Her tongue flickered against my skin, a reminder of the natural world's simple realities amidst our web of human intrigues and uncertainties.
The basement's dim light seemed to focus on the Portal Key in Leigh's hand, a beacon of our otherworldly connection. "We have devices, called Portal Keys," Leigh elaborated, his voice steady, but I could sense the undercurrent of awe he felt for the technology he held. The device, simple in design yet profound in function, gleamed subtly in his palm, a testament to the extraordinary portal it accessed.
"An alternate reality," I chimed in, keen to provide clarity but also to underscore the weight of our revelation.
Leigh's next words were tinged with a hint of uncertainty, his eyes flicking to mine as if seeking reassurance. "We're not really sure what it is," he admitted, his honesty painting a picture of our still-unfolding understanding of the Portal keys' powers.
Impatience nipped at my calm, prompting a sharper response than I intended. "It doesn't really matter what it is," I retorted, my gaze locking with Jarod's. I needed him to grasp the seriousness, not get lost in the details. "This is where Jamie is."
Jarod's question, "Can he get back?" was laced with genuine concern.
Leigh's response, "No," resonated with finality in the cramped space. "Anybody that passes through the Portal that isn't a Guardian becomes trapped in that new world forever."
Seizing the moment to solidify our case, I added, "Clivilius." The name of the alternate world rolled off my tongue, imbued with a sense of otherness yet tinged with a strange familiarity. "The world is called Clivilius." Naming it felt like giving shape to our fears and challenges, an attempt to make the intangible tangible, to bring Jarod fully into our circle of trust and shared destiny.
Leigh extended the Portal Key to Jarod, a serious expression on his face. "Beatrix and Jamie could really use your help. We want you to take this device and become a Guardian like us."
Jarod's incredulity was a palpable force in the cramped, shadow-laden space, his head shaking a visible sign of his struggle to reconcile our words with reality. "You've both lost your minds," he declared, his voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and concern.
His disbelief stung, but I understood it. The realms we spoke of were beyond the ordinary, challenging the very fabric of what we accepted as reality. "It's true," I insisted, my voice firm, bolstering Leigh's claims. "We need all the help we can get."
Jarod's frown deepened, his mind visibly wrestling with our assertions. "I see," he uttered, the gears of his thoughts turning audibly in the silence that followed. "Look, Beatrix, you know that I'll do anything I can to help you, but this all sounds so unbelievable. How can I trust that this is true?" His question, honest and raw, echoed in the dimly lit room, hanging in the air like a challenge.
"I know it's hard to believe," I confessed, acknowledging the vast chasm between our extraordinary reality and the mundane world most lived in. "I was just as skeptical the first time I heard about Clivilius, Guardians, and Portal Keys. But it really is all true." My words were a bridge, an attempt to span the gap between disbelief and the astonishing truth.
Jarod's response was immediate, a reflex born of a life spent discerning truth from fiction. "Okay, prove it," he demanded, his arms folding defensively across his chest. His challenge, a clear demand for tangible evidence, hung between us, a new hurdle to overcome.
The Portal Key felt cool and significant in my grasp as I presented it to Jarod, its presence a tangible link to the extraordinary truths I was trying to convey. "This is my Portal Key," I stated, imbuing my voice with a sense of gravity to match the item's importance. "There are five in total for every Guardian group, and they are the only way to open the Portal."
Jarod's gaze lingered on the device, his expression a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. "How do I know I can trust you?" he pressed, his eyes searching mine for deceit. "How do I know this isn't some kind of trap?"
His doubt stung, more than I anticipated. After all we'd been through, the notion that he would question my sincerity now felt like a bitter pill to swallow. "You have to trust your instincts, Jarod," I urged, striving to inject a blend of confidence and sincerity into my tone. "I know it's hard to believe, but I promise you it's all real. And anyway, since when have you ever doubted trusting me before?" The irritation in my voice was palpable, my frustration at his mistrust breaking through my composed exterior.
Jarod paused, his hand absentmindedly stroking his chin, a gesture I recognised as his thinking pose. "I suppose that’s true," he conceded after a moment, his skepticism beginning to wane. "And we've done some pretty crazy shit before."
I latched onto his acknowledgment, eager to reinforce the bond of our shared past and the extraordinary nature of our current situation. "Exactly!" I exclaimed, feeling a glimmer of hope. "Just think of this as another one of those times." My words were an invitation, a call to embrace the unknown with the same trust and camaraderie that had seen us through past challenges.
I nodded toward Leigh. The moment Leigh activated his Portal Key, reality as we knew it seemed to pause, bending to the will of the device. The burst of light from the key was not just illumination—it was a spectacle of colour, a visual symphony that captivated the senses. As the cabinet beside me became the canvas for this display, its surface dancing with colours more vivid than nature itself, I couldn't help but relive the awe of my first encounter with a Portal.
"Shit," Jarod's reaction was a mix of disbelief and wonder, his voice barely above a whisper as his gaze fixed on the transformed cabinet. "I've never seen anything like this before."
I couldn't suppress my smile, buoyed by his astonishment and the shared experience of witnessing something truly beyond the ordinary. "It's incredible, isn't it?" I echoed his sentiment, my eyes still on the mesmerising colours. "The Portal is a gateway to other worlds, and the Portal Keys are the only way to access it. Each Portal Key has an owner and can only be used by that owner. I can't enter through Leigh's Portal, and he can't enter through mine."
The reality of our situation crystallised as Leigh stepped through the Portal, his form swallowed by the cabinet only to emerge elsewhere, in a world unseen and unimaginable to those who've never crossed the threshold. The Portal snapped shut behind him, leaving behind a lingering echo of its presence.
"Holy shit," Jarod's whisper was a testament to the impact of what he'd just witnessed. "He just walked through the side of a fucking cabinet."
"Well, technically he's now in Clivilius," I clarified, grounding the magical in reality, or at least the version of reality we were now a part of.
Jarod's struggle for words was palpable, his mind grappling with the implications of what he'd seen. The line between the possible and the impossible had not just been blurred; it had been erased and redrawn in fantastical hues. Standing there, in the aftermath of the Portal's closure, I knew we had crossed a pivotal threshold in our mission. Jarod's understanding of our world—and his place within it—was forever altered, just as mine had been when I first encountered the enigmatic beauty of a Portal.
The return of Leigh through the Portal was as surreal as his departure, the cabinet erupting into a kaleidoscope of colours before settling back into its mundane state. Jarod's reaction, a mix of awe and disbelief, resonated deeply with me.
"That's fucking insane," Jarod exclaimed, his voice a cocktail of excitement and bewilderment as he edged closer to the colours.
Leigh's subtle gesture, a mere flick of his hand, extinguished the vibrant display, returning the cabinet to its ordinary state. The transition from the extraordinary back to the ordinary seemed almost anticlimactic, yet it underscored the immense power at our minds fingertips.
"So, are you in?" Leigh's question cut through the thick air of wonder, grounding us back to the reason for our gathering.
A mischievous smile played at the corners of Jarod's mouth.
"Come on, Jarod. You know we make a formidable team. Imagine what you could do with power like this," I said to him.
Jarod's smile, tinged with mischief, hinted at the adventurer within him, yet his hesitation spoke volumes. "I need some time to let it sink in and consider my options. And I have a few loose ends I need to tie up before I can fully commit to anything," he confessed, his internal struggle evident in his furrowed brow and contemplative gaze.
Leigh's nod was one of empathy, a recognition of the permanency of the choice Jarod faced. "That's a reasonable request. Take all the time you need to think things through. We'll be here when you're ready."
I echoed Leigh's sentiment with a nod of my own, understanding the importance of Jarod making this decision independently. The urgency of our situation pressed against my mind like a ticking clock, reminding me of the stakes we faced. Yet, I recognised that true commitment couldn't be rushed or imposed. Jarod's journey to acceptance and understanding was his own.
The shift in conversation from the ethereal to the practical was jarring, yet necessary. The pressing needs of the caravan mission given to me by Paul, grounded me back to the reality of my situation, a world where resources were as crucial as courage. "In the meantime, I need to borrow some of your cash," I stated plainly to Jarod, acutely aware of the stash he kept.
"I'll pay you back as soon as I can.” My promise hung in the air, a half-truth at best. The complexities of our situation, intertwined with the potential of never needing to settle debts in a traditional sense, clouded the sincerity of my assurance. Yet, it was a necessary façade, a part of the dance of trust and cooperation we were engaged in.
Jarod's compliance was a relief, his actions as he led us to the safe a blend of familiarity and routine. Watching him unlock the safe, the ease of his movements spoke of a man well-acquainted with the dualities of security and risk. As he counted out the bills, the crisp sound of the currency being separated was oddly reassuring in the dim, cluttered space of the basement.
"Take what you need," Jarod's words were generous, yet I detected the underlying tension, a subtle acknowledgment of the stakes at play. I accepted the money, feeling its weight not just in my hands but in my conscience. This cash, a tangible representation of trust and alliance, would fuel my next steps.
The thought of the caravans, another piece in the puzzle of my Guardian responsibilities, loomed in my mind. The funds in my hand were more than just currency; they were a lifeline, a means to secure a crucial element of my mission. As I pocketed the money, I couldn't shake the blend of gratitude and the heavy sense of responsibility that came with it.
"Do you need some too, Leigh?" Jarod asked, the simplicity of the question belying the depth of its implications.
Leigh's reaction was immediate, his surprise evident in his wide eyes, but quickly replaced by a casual acceptance. "If you're going to be handing it out like that, sure," he responded, a grin playing on his lips.
My shock at Leigh's nonchalance was palpable. To accept money so freely from someone who was, in essence, still a stranger to him, struck a discordant note in my mind.
Leigh, perceptive to my discomfort, addressed me directly. "Funding our Guardian activities is a never-ending battle. I've learned never to turn down an opportunity when it's presented," he explained, his voice carrying a hint of pragmatism born from experience.
My glare lingered on Leigh, unsoftened by his justification. In this murky world we navigated, where lines blurred between right and wrong, his readiness to embrace such pragmatism shouldn’t have felt unexpected to me, yet somehow it caught me off guard.
Maggie's hiss cut through the tension, a serpentine reminder of the natural instincts that governed even our extraordinary world. Leigh's hand retracted from his reach for my shoulder, a small concession to the discomfort he had unwittingly provoked.
"I'll leave the two of you to discuss things," Leigh announced, his tone a mix of respect and resignation. As he activated his Portal Key, the basement was once again awash in the ethereal glow of the Portal's colours. "It was good to see you again, Jarod," he offered, a farewell that bridged the gap between acquaintances and newfound allies.
With Leigh's departure, the weight of the moment settled on my shoulders. The dance of colours faded, leaving behind the outcome of our choices, and the alliances we forged. Jarod's presence, the tangible cash in my possession, and Leigh's pragmatic acceptance of our circumstances—all converged in a moment of clarity. My path was fraught with moral ambiguities, but my commitment to our Guardian cause remained the beacon guiding me through the darkness.
As Jarod and I delved deeper into the intricacies of Clivilius and the life of a Guardian, a flame of purpose ignited within me, a feeling I hadn't truly experienced since the sorrowful days following Brody's passing. The conversation wasn't just about plans and strategies; it was a rekindling of the bond Jarod and I shared, a revival of a camaraderie that had once been a cornerstone of my life.
My mind, ever wandering, drifted to Maggie, my cherished python. She wasn't just a pet; she was a companion, a silent confidante who had been by my side through thick and thin. The memories of our time together at the antique store were vivid, filled with moments of silent understanding and mutual companionship. When circumstances forced me to leave her behind, it was with a heavy heart and a promise to myself that our separation would be temporary.
Now, as possibilities unfolded before me, the dilemma of Maggie's future weighed on my mind. The stark reality was that she couldn't traverse the worlds with me. The rules that governed our travels between Clivilius and Earth were unyielding, especially for those not bound by the Guardians' call.
Yet, as I glanced around the dimly lit basement, an idea began to form. With Jarod's support and the resources at our disposal, perhaps there was a way to create a haven for Maggie and other creatures like her. The notion of building a sanctuary in Clivilius, a safe haven where Johnny could care for them, offered a glimmer of hope.
The plan was fledgling, filled with 'maybes' and 'what ifs,' but it was a start. The thought of providing a sanctuary not just for Maggie but for other beings caught between worlds sparked a new sense of determination in me.
The sudden vibration of my phone, persistent and insistent, pulled me sharply away from the world of Guardians and Portals, dragging me back to a reality I had momentarily escaped. My mother's calls had been a background noise, easily dismissed until now. The text on the screen, abrupt and alarming, cut through the basement's dim light like a cold blade:
Wendy Cramer 18:17PM: Why the hell is there a dead dog wrapped in a blanket in your bathroom!?
The words seemed to echo in my mind, each one a hammer blow to my composure. "Shit," slipped from my lips, a whisper of confusion and growing horror. Jarod's voice, the conversation we were having, it all receded into a blur as the urgency of the message took hold.
"I need to go," I said, my voice a mix of urgency and fear. The room, with its secrets and plans, suddenly felt suffocating, the weight of my mother's message urging me to action.
Jarod's concern was palpable, his brow creased as he stood up. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice a blend of confusion and worry.
"I don't know," I confessed, my heart racing as scenarios and possibilities whirled chaotically in my mind. "I need to go home and find out what's going on. I'll see you soon." My words felt hollow, an inadequate response to the turmoil that churned within me.
"Wait, Beatrix," Jarod interjected, his determination cutting through my panic. "I'll come with you. If you really want me to become a… Guardian… then you need to be able to trust me too. You shouldn't have to face whatever this is alone."
My hesitation was a tangible thing, a moment suspended between Jarod's offer of companionship and the daunting prospect of confronting the unpredictable drama that awaited me at home. The image of my mother, bewildered and distressed by the inexplicable presence of Duke, gripped my mind. Duke, who I had unintentionally brought back to Earth and left in a place he shouldn't have been. The severity of the situation, the potential repercussions, it all weighed heavily on me.
"No, Jarod," I finally uttered, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I appreciate the offer, but I have to do this alone. You know how my mother can be when she is stressed." My words were an admission of the delicate balance I needed to maintain, a balance that might not withstand additional variables, even well-intentioned ones.
Jarod's laughter, a brief respite from the tension, echoed in the basement. "Yeah, I've experienced the wrath of her stress firsthand, remember," he said, a hint of levity in his voice that quickly faded into a solemn expression.
"How could I forget?" I responded, the memory of his previous encounters with my mother adding a layer of shared history to our current predicament. But there was no time for reminiscences. Duke's situation, the urgent need to address the confusion and distress at home, pressed on me with increasing weight.
Stepping through the Portal, I braced myself for the confrontation ahead. The myriad possibilities of what might unfold raced through my mind as I crossed the threshold, leaving Jarod and the basement behind.
