"I think you're a little confused," said Jacqueline. "I've never been out of the country. How am I supposed to know a priest in Nova Scotia?"
"His name is Lochlann Asher, and he's not a priest. At least, not in the sense you think. He's… He was a druid."
Jacqueline laughed. "A druid in the Americas? There are hardly enough left to be found on the islands, much less across the ocean."
"What's a druid?"
"D'Artagnan, if you can't keep up, you shouldn't try to join in," Jacqueline said through her molars. "Druids were an ancient order of pagans, but they were all but stamped out two hundred years ago."
"You're wrong, but you're damn close," Badger said quietly.
The sadness in her eyes and voice spoke volumes.
"You're a druid," Jacqueline concluded aloud.
"I am not important. Truth to right, I shouldn't even be here."
"But you are here. Why?"
Badger sighed, knowing she couldn't escape the line of questioning.
"I'm from an ancient sect descended from that of Asher the Great, the first Guardian. I came here to find the Cross of Asher."
"The what?"
Badger pointed to Jacqueline's chest. Looking down, she saw her cross had escaped her shirt again and was glinting in the afternoon sun.
"This? But it's just a family heirloom!"
"Then you truly don't know? Gods. Don't they teach you Christians anything in church?"
"Sure. They teach us to be wary of pagans who happen to be experts in unarmed combat," said D'Artagnan.
"You're an idiot," said Badger. To Jacqueline, she said "May I?"
Haltingly, Jacqueline took the cross from her neck and passed it across the table. Badger carefully depressed the little protrusions at the shorter ends of the cross between her thumb and forefinger. The barest click sounded and the image of Jesus came free in her fingers. She handed the cross back to an incredulous Jacqueline.
"Look closer," said Badger.
Jacqueline peered at the space left by the tiny Jesus. There, etched in the metal, was a single word.
"CAEDESIS. What in the..?"
"It's Latin. It means 'blood shed in slaughter'."
"Cheery," said D'Artagnan.
"The man who forged that cross, Asher the Great, left that as a warning. He knew first hand what would happen if it ever fell into the wrong hands."
"You know," D'Artagnan said carefully, "at the risk of sounding dull, I feel a lot more confused than I did before you started explaining."
Badger rubbed her forehead wearily. "It's not just a symbol of faith. It's a key."
"It doesn't look like a key," said D'Artagnan.
"Your friend doesn't look like a girl, but she is, isn't she?"
"A key to what?" said Jacqueline.
"Remember that obelisk you mentioned?"
Jacqueline frowned. "The one the Knights of the Black Tabernacle keep flashing all over town?"
Badger suddenly looked like a younger sibling had just dropped something slimy down the back of her shirt. "The Black Tabernacle? Those know-nothing no-talent hacks are still around?"
"They're the most dangerous group in the territory," said D'Artagnan.
"They're posers. They'd douse themselves in holy water and hide under stone henge for twenty years if they knew what they were really fooling with."
"Which would be what exactly?"
Badger looked at Jacqueline. "Is he always this irritating?"
"Only when his lips are moving. If you let that bother you, we'll never get anywhere."
"Hey!"
"As I was saying, that obelisk isn't quite what they think it is. They seek to exploit its power, but what they don't know is that the obelisk itself is just a casing, a prison for the real power source. The only way to unlock its secrets and truly wield the weapon is with that cross."
"Wait a minute. Power source? You're talking about it like this Asher person locked up the sun," said Jacqueline.
"And you're talking about it like they tell me everything. They don't."
"'They' who?"
"For the third time, it's not important."
"It is to me!" Jacqueline took a moment to quiet down again. "I want to know everything, every fact, every detail. I want to know what this Asher person's favorite song was if it'll bring me any closer to the truth behind this whole mess. Please."
There was a long pause before Badger spoke, looking like she was having teeth pulled.
"We're called 'Watchers'. Our order is as old as the Guardians. We are oath-bound to protect the descendents of Asher on their mission to protect the cross until our dying breath. Only our high priests know the true secrets of the obelisk, including Lochlann Asher. Thirty years ago, he fell in love will a woman from Gall and he forsook all but her. He abandoned the Watchers and ran with her, only to be caught a few years later by the Justinians. She was killed, and he escaped across the sea, never to be heard from again, the tosser. How are we supposed to aid him in his life's purpose if we don't know where he is?"
"Wait, Justinians? At the risk of sounding slow, I'm afraid you're going to have to explain what a Justinian is," said D'Artagnan.
"They make the Black Tabernacle look like toothless old sheep. They're the followers of the first Justinian, a Roman emperor who became a demon on earth when the power now locked in the obelisk drove all virtue from his heart and granted his followers their evil hearts' desire. Then the Gods saw how it was going and didn't like it one bit. 'Justinian you wanker,' says God, 'amend your wicked ways or sod off.' But he wouldn't, so he was doomed to spend eternity trying to claw his way out of limbo."
"And his followers went after Lochlann because..?"
"Because they're convinced that if they have the key, they can unlock the obelisk and if they unlock the obelisk, they can wield the power and if they can wield the power, they can break their lord out of his eternal torment, and if they can do that, they'll be made kings on earth and rule over the rest of us like the pharaohs over the Hebrews. Savvy?"
D'Artagnan and Jacqueline sat blinking at Badger for a full minute or two, trying absorb the information.
"Is that true?" Jacqueline was finally able to ask.
"All except for the last part. Chances are, Justinian will just crush his followers along with every other poor sod in the known world and start over."
"Well," said D'Artagnan finally. "That's some information that might've been a little more useful to us a couple weeks ago. Did it ever occur to you to, say, tell her that some insane cult is after her?"
"First of all, it's generally considered a good idea for druids to keep scarce around heavily armed Christians. Second…" Badger cleared her throat, suddenly looking sad again. "It could be my fault that the Justinians found you. I think they followed me here. They hunt you even now, and they're not going to stop until they get that cross."
Jacqueline couldn't completely hide her shudder. As vague and strange as the story had been, she somehow knew in her heart that it was true.
"Almost everyone who knows about this and doesn't want to rule the world is dead," Badger went on. "The Watchers have but one purpose, and that is to ensure the survival of the Last Guardian."
"And that's you," said Jacqueline.
"No," said Badger. "That's you."