by Stuart Atkinson

Chapter 18: The Watchers

"Get down, they will see you!" the girl hissed, anxiously tugging at her impetuous companion's leg. Obediently he ducked down, crouching down beside her again behind the rise of the hilltop. Her Irish accent was soft, lilting.

"They did not see me," he insisted calmly, "they did not even look this way."

But he avoided looking into his sister's eyes as he spoke, knowing she would sense he was lying: for a moment, looking through the binoculars, he had thought he had seen the girl looking up at him, looking right at him, but he couldn't be sure.

Why had he been so stupid, standing up above the skyline like that? In his green and earth-toned jacket and trousers he was impossible to see against a tree- or firn-covered hillside, a chameleon really, but against an angry black sky his silhouette might have been briefly visible..?

But no, he couldn't be sure, so it was best to say nothing. Besides, they'd already moved on and were well on their way back to the village now.

But his sister was in no mood to be pacified. "I told you to stay out of sight," she scolded him angrily, adding "why must you always challenge me?"

He gritted his teeth. Maybe because you talk to me like I'm ten years younger than you, not two, he wanted to tell her; Maybe because you always treat me like some sort of slave or servant, instead of your equal. Maybe... Maybe...

His temper was rising but he forced himself to calm down. No, it wasn't worth it. He had to let it go, or she'd just make his life even more miserable when they got back to the village.

"You're right, I am sorry," he said flatly.

She harrumphed his apology away dismissively, knowing full well he didn't mean it. "I am sure you saw nothing of any use or importance, anyway," she snarled, curious to know what he had seen but unable to bring - or allow - herself to say so.

"They were just resting," he said, "leaning against the big boulder, then moved on up the valley." He paused, taking a moment to glance at the sky, searching for the Sun. It wasn't visible directly, but he could estimate its position by searching for the brightest area of cloud and, having found that, know the time of day. "They should be back at Ivy within thirty minutes."

"We will know soon after," his sister predicted confidently, nodding her head. Beneath her green hood her blue eyes burned fiercely, like a wild animal's, made to appear all the colder by her burgundy-coloured hair. As usual wisps and curls of it were trying to escape from beneath her hood, looking like flames, giving her an unruly, unkempt look.

"So..." he sighed sadly, not knowing what else to say as he lay back on the damp grass to stare up at the sky. It was a dome of grey and black, clouds rushing and clashing together above them. From their patterns and movement he could tell that soon it would rain, and rain hard, but he looked forward to it. It would take his mind off what had happened, and what they had seen, at least for a while.

"We always knew They would come, one day," his sister reminded him darkly, "I had just hoped that..."

She bit back the words, suddenly aware that her tongue had started running away with itself. She hadn't meant to say that.

But it was too late, the words were already out. He turned to her, noting the strange edge to her voice. She had sounded almost sad...

"You had hoped that... what?" he asked, studying her face. Yes, she looked sad, distant.

"I had always hoped They would not come during our lifetimes," she sighed. "It has been so long... I foolishly dared to think that perhaps none would ever come."

He was startled by her admission. This was the last thing - the very last thing - he'd ever expected to hear from his sister.

"Perhaps that is still the case," he suggested, trying to lift her spirits, "perhaps they are just like the others... walking tourists, holidaymakers, sightseers..?"

"No, they are not," she bit back quickly, and harshly, "we saw them. She entered the Tower and Travelled... he searched the ground with a disc of singing metal..."

Unseen inside his own hood he shook his head and stifled a laugh. Why couldn't she just call it a metal detector? Why did she have to be so... melodramatic all the time? She was old before her time.

Or Maybe it was he who had refused to grow up.

"Either way, they found nothing," he pointed out, trying to be helpful and sound optimistic.

"Of course they found nothing," she snarled, "there is nothing left here to find..." Her head bowed reverently as she spoke again, her voice distant and respectful. "The Gatherers saw to that in the Days After."

He sighed within the concealing folds of his hood, sensing yet again his sister's passion for the Dark Days. It was not a passion he shared; no Sun... no stars... and, on a more practical level, no food, no medicine, no Hope...

"It is because of The Gatherers that we are free to protect the Sleeping Ones," she continued, glancing back towards the village, "you would do well to remember that, brother."

But he wasn't listening. He was still imagining "life" in the Dark Age: no pizzas... no Buffy The Vampire Slayer... no CDs...

"We must return and tell the others," his sister announced abruptly, brushing loose dirt and grass off her long legs, starting to rise.

"And tell the others what?" he asked impatiently, "that we saw two people looking around the Castle for a few minutes, one of them took a look inside and the other did a quick sweep with a metal detector? That happens all the time... treasure hunters,
holidaymakers... it's probably the first time he's used it since he was given it at Christmas," he laughed, "probably thought he'd find a sword or a ruby necklace belonging to the beautiful princess who was imprisoned here - "


"Why do you mock?" she demanded angrily, and turning he saw fire flashing in her eyes, "there is danger here - "

"You don't know that," he repeated slowly, trying to calm her down, "people walk here all the time, Shiara, all the time - "

But she wasn't going to be calmed. "These were different," Shiara insisted, her eyes burning into him like blue flames.

"*How* were they different?" he challenged her. "Waterproofs... rucksacks, hiking boots... looked just like all the rest to me -"


She hesitated before answering, knowing what his reaction would be, but she could not hide what she was, or what she knew.

"Their Colours were different - "

"Aaaah, their Colours, right," he sighed, shaking his head and looking up at the thickening clouds, "I forgot you can see those, sorry - "


"You dismiss things of which you know nothing!" she spat angrily, her face flushed with fury and frustration. "Just because you cannot See you refuse to believe others can."

"I can 'see' just fine, thank you," he replied caustically, "I just can't see those rainbow auras, or haloes, or whatever it is you imagine you can - "


"It is not imagination!" she snapped, temper rising like lava within a volcano. "Aaah, you cannot understand - !"

"You mean because I'm a man," he snarled bitterly. She said nothing, she didn't need to; husbands, fathers and sons could not See, that was a simple fact.

"I've always thought that's very convenient," he sneered, "how only females are born with such an amazing ability..? Really keeps us menfolk in our place, doesn't it?"

Although she was still fuming, his sister said nothing. There was no point repeating the same old argument; she hadn't anything to do with it, no say in the matter. It was just the way things were. Thankfully.

But he clearly wasn't going to let it go easily this time.

"So, Oh Powerful One," he said mockingly, "how did they look... 'different', these strangers?"

She told him - not because she thought he genuinely wanted to know, she was sure he didn't, but because it would help her clarify the images in her own mind, in preparation for telling the Others back at the village.

"They were... brighter, more intense," she replied distantly, thinking back to how she had hidden behind a ledge and watched the man and girl stalking around the Castle ruins earlier. Her brother rolled his eyes at her description, as usual, and, as usual, she ignored it.

"Hers was the brighter, by far"," she recalled, and closed her eyes, remembering her first sight of the girl through the binoculars: standing beside the tower, the girl had been outlined in a sharp blue light, not at all like the pale, water-coloured glows every previous visitor to the hilltop had displayed. Could she really have been a mere tourist as her brother believed? No, she had been there because she had wanted to be there, because she was looking for something.

And that made her dangerous. Very dangerous.

"I sense a stirring in the Force..." her brother whispered beside her, laughing as he realised that never having watched any of the films his sister had no idea he was doing an impression - albeit a poor one - of Obi Wan Kenobi. Shaira's problem was that she had been born a millenium and a half too late.

"Your cynicism is wasted, and irrelevent," his sister said dismissively, "what you choose to believe or disbelieve is of no concern to me. All that matters is that we get back and tell the Others what we saw. They will decide what to do next."


"They've already decided what they're going to do," he snorted, as rain started to patter the ground around them, "and when you tell them exactly what they want to hear they'll go ahead and do it." He looked towards the village, wondering if the strangers had made it home yet. Those poor people -


"If the Others judge that the Sleeping Ones are in danger, they will act to protect them," his sister said matter-of-factly, her meaning clear: it had always been that way. Why should it change now?

She wasn't listening to him! "But we don't know if she - "


Pushing her hood aside his sister turned on him sharply, and when she looked at him there was contempt in her eyes. "As I feared, the girl's beauty has blinded you to your duty..."


Had he heard her right? "What? What do you..? No!" he protested, "you don't think I..? That's stupid!" The girl had been attractive, yes, in fact very attractive, but that wasn't the reason why he felt so bad about what lay ahead for her. It was just wrong.


"Whatever you say," she smiled sarcastically, her ice-blue eyes looking even brighter now that her mane of cinnamon-coloured hair had been released from its confinement. With her hood down she looked like a wild Celt, pale skinned and flame-haired. "It
does not matter anyway. What must be done, will be done - "


"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands, "you're just like a robot, pre-programmed, you can't think for yourself!"


"We are not here to think!" she snapped back, eyes flashing as the rain started to fall harder around them, "we are here to watch and tell the Others what we have seen, that is all!" She jerked back her head then, striking a defiant pose. "Or have you forgotten your Vow?"

How could I? he thought bitterly, I'm reminded of it every time I -

Before he could even complete the thought his sister had thrust out her hand towards him, palm turned upwards. He couldn't stop himself from looking, even though he already knew what it was...


"You vowed at birth to serve the Fallen, and protect the Sleeping Ones until its return," she said sombrely, staring deep into his eyes.

I didn't vow anything! he wanted to scream, Neither did you, we were just babies, we had no say in it..! After sixteen years his memories of what had happened had dimmed, but he caught occasional flashes, brief glimpses and impressions... the two of them being grabbed out of their mother's arms, carried away to a dark and cold place, crying out as the needles jabbed into him...


"Like all Watchers you bear Its mark..." his twin sister continued, reaching for his hand and flipping it over to reveal the dragon symbol tattooed on the fleshy pad beneath the joint of his thumb. She pressed it against her own, pressed hard, never taking her eyes off his, not even for a second. He let out a gasp and she pressed even harder, challenging him, hurting him, but he held her penetrating gaze, determined not to look away.


"We have to protect them, Conn," she said, her voice softer now, calmer, "they sleep, they cannot protect themselves..."

Conn nodded. He wanted to argue, to tell her it was all nonsense, that nothing was "asleep" or needed "protecting"...

But his conditioning had been so effective that one part of him believed her, believed he had a duty to perform, just as she said. After all, their family had carried - with pride - that duty for fifteen centuries, who was he to break that line?

"We should be getting back," he said, pulling his hand away and breaking her gaze as rain started to pool around them, "if we don't go now we'll be swimming home."

Beside Conn his twin sister got to her feet, pulling her heavy hood back over her head before reaching out her hands to him. He took them, and let her pull up upright, surprised as ever by the girl's strength as she hauled him off the wet ground. Then they turned their backs on the Castle and started walking.

As she passed the wooden footbridge, several minutes ahead of her brother, Shiara paused under the sheltering arms of a big oak to look out across the river. Peering at it through the curtains of lashing rain, she saw that all the windows of Ivy Cottage were lit save one, in the top right corner.

The smaller bedroom, she told herself, that's where she is, that's where the girl is sleeping. Maybe if she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough she would be able to..?

No, that was going too far.

"I thought you were in a hurry to get back?" Conn asked sarcastically, trudging past her. Like his sister he was soaked to the skin. She didn't rise to the comment, there was no point. Instead she just walked after him, splashing up the sodden footpath. He would keep.

Sleep, girl, she smiled grimly, walking away from the cottage, sleep long and dream deeply.

While you still can.

© Stuart Atkinson 2003