Guardians of Treasures Untold
Part One: 5/10.
Author: Nefret24
Disclaimers n' notes, see part 1.
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Marguerite waited for an hour before she began. Knowing herself, or thinking she knew herself, she would wager that the ouroborus medallion was hidden somewhere, out of sight. No matter what this Roxton said, she didn't think that in three decades, much less three years, could she bring herself to trust complete strangers enough for those secrets.
But she had made it here. That revelation floored her. She was actually on the plateau. She recalled the end of a conversation she had had with Xian- she had staunchly maintained that it was a fairy tale.
"Just you wait and see, the other half will turn up in the hands of a Cockney at Tottenham Court Road who can't make heads or tails of it," she had scoffed.
Xian, like the sneaky bastard he was, had just smiled and shook his head. "You English always have such a quaint way of saying things. But perhaps I should remind you: 'there are more things of heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' "
"And some people confuse philosophy with superstitions, fact with fiction, real life with dreams. Dragons that walk the earth? Probably just an over-size snake-in-the-grass," she had curled her lip and stalked off, leaving the warlord alone with his dusty manuscripts.
She wondered idly if there really were dragons after all. They had a lot of guns on that far wall
Finally guessing it was safe, she stood up from the bed and surveyed the room. If I were a medallion, where would I hide?
First, she went to the mattress, shifting it up onto her shoulders as she ran her hands over the underside. Nothing under it what about in it? She found a small hole and reached inside, pulling out a quantity of dust, feathers, hay and one small leather pouch.
Her hands tremulous with anticipation, her fingers eagerly worked the knot on the bag. She dumped its contents into her hand.
"Damn," she cursed softly when several small, uncut diamonds fell into her palm. "Pretty though."
She made a circuit of the room. She looked in pillowcases, chests, all the pockets of her clothes, behind all the picture frames and accumulated a small pile of little leather bags. All of them contained various precious gems and jewels- no medallion to be found.
She pushed a stray hair out of her eyes and sighed heavily, sitting down on the bed again. It wasn't here. Obviously, she had been the busy bee insofar as getting her money back, which was a nice little thought, but what did it get her? Not a birth certificate, at any rate.
Would she have hidden it in the common rooms? Did she trust them not to find it?
She went to her door and slowly opened it enough to allow her to peek out into the hall. No one awake. Lovely.
Being very careful to be quiet, she tiptoed to the living room. She repeated her search just as she had done in her room, looking in all the books, over and under the bookshelves- she had even tried some loose floorboards. And again, in all the most favorable places she had found a small pouch filled with glittering stones.
Marguerite was beginning to lose her temper. She went to the kitchen and found three more bags. By now she wasn't even concealing her search or carefully returning things to their rightful places. Her fury increased with every fruitless hiding spot, every hidden bag containing beautiful things but not her medallion.
She had reached her breaking point. Her head was throbbing and she couldn't think clearly. She kept trying to remember what she had done with it, and ended up searching spots she had already uncovered.
She collapsed on the couch and grabbing the nearest pillow, she held it over her mouth to muffle the sobs that unwilling rose in her throat. She ended up crying herself to sleep, alone in the dark, with nothing but cold stones to show for all her hard work.
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"Vee! Roxton! Quick!" Finn's voice called out over the bird's calls in the early morning.
"What is it?" Veronica mumbled, dragging her feet as she walked into the living room. Rubbing her eyes, she asked it again in a clearer voice. "What's up, Finn?"
"Look!" the younger girl said, pointing to the disarray of the living room.
"What's going on? Marguerite's not in her room-" Roxton said, entering the room with a concerned look on his face. He stopped short when he saw the common area. Books were everywhere, a chair was overturned and some of the floorboards were askew.
"Kitchen's bad too," Finn said to him.
"Marguerite seems okay," Veronica said wryly, gesturing to the couch where the brunette was curled up on her side, the pillow still concealing her face.
Roxton went over to the couch and removed the pillow. He could see the tear-tracks on her cheeks. Biting his lip to keep from swearing, he contented himself with removing a stray piece of hair from her face.
He looked down to see her clenched fist. He took her small hand in both of his and slowly pulled it open. A dozen small gemstones, of varying sizes and colors, fell into his palm.
Looking closer at the clutter around the couch, he saw several of the little pouches that Marguerite used to store her jewelry.
"She did it," he said aloud, awe apparent in his tone.
"Yeah. Clearly that bump did a bit more than make her forgetful- it made her nuts too!" Finn said disgustedly as she helped Veronica pick up the mess.
"No, no- she's looking for something. She must have hidden over a dozen of these stupid bags all over the house" He showed Veronica one of the small discarded leather pouches he'd found by the couch.
"She hid her jewels under my floor?" Veronica said in consternation.
"She's got them buried outside too," Roxton said with a nod.
"Wow! Are those real?" Finn asked, her eyes dazzled by the jewelry hoard Marguerite had unearthed.
"If Marguerite saved them, then yeah, I guess they are," Veronica said with a wry smile, and decided to see how badly the kitchen fared.
"Finn, young lady we will need to have a talk about all this shouting early in the morning oh my goodness!" Challenger said as he came up from his lab. "I was just finishing up another batch of that salve- what happened here?"
"Marguerite couldn't find something last night," Finn said with a shrug, re-shelving more books. "And I wasn't shouting."
"What was she looking for?" Challenger asked, surveying the room.
"Who knows what she's got stashed about- in the flour jar?? How could I have missed this?" exclaimed Veronica from the kitchen.
The two men exchanged bemused smiles and raised eyebrows. "I honestly don't know, George," Roxton confided. "Whatever it was"
"Whatever it was, she knew she hadn't found it. I wonder does she remember the plateau?" he asked, fingering his chin thoughtfully.
"I'm not sure. Last night she seemed to know of it, but she still didn't know my name. It's like the past three years never happened!" Roxton said feelingly.
"It'll be alright," Challenger said confidently. "Has anyone checked in on our other patient this morning?"
"We were kind of preoccupied with all of this" Roxton said sheepishly, gesturing to the recumbent woman.
"WHAT DID SHE DO TO MY STOVE?!"
"Maybe we'd better check on him," George said with a nervous glance at the kitchen.
"I'll help," Roxton agreed quickly, and they both made fast tracks as they heard Veronica bang pots and curse in the kitchen. Marguerite remained sound asleep.
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"So how is the patient this morning?" Challenger said with a smile. Bochra seemed to be recovering nicely. He was still dreadfully pale and could not move much, but his eyes were clear and bright.
"Much better than yesterday, thank you," he replied genially, allowing Challenger to take his pulse.
"Not bad," Challenger said after a quick examination of his wound. "You're going to need to stay in bed for a few more days but you're out of the woods now."
"And the other patient? How is Marguerite?" Bochra asked in a quiet voice.
"She's lost her memory," Roxton said, bitterness in his voice as he leveled a harsh stare at the bedridden man.
"She can remember nothing?"
"Not of the last three years, no," Challenger answered before Roxton could reply. He placed a hand on one of the younger man's shoulders, hoping that he would unclenched the balled fists that rested on his thigh.
Roxton's tense shoulders did not relax by much at this gesture.
"May I speak with Lord Roxton alone?" Bochra asked Challenger, his eyes never leaving Roxton's face.
"Certainly. I'm sure the two of you have much to erm, discuss. I'll just, um, see how the kitchen's faring," he said with a weak smile and left the two men to themselves.
"Are you going to tell me why you're here? Why you've endangered Marguerite?" Roxton growled.
"I did not place her in any danger that she could have avoided. It is her destiny. As it is yours, and your friend's," Bochra said wearily, as a parent reiterating an explanation for an ignorant child.
"My friend's?"
"The one they call Veronica."
"You've already hurt one woman of this house, I will not let you hurt another! Leave Veronica out of this!" Roxton roared, standing on his feet.
"She is the Protector. Surely you have seen the amulet she wears on her throat? The Trion? She is a part of this because of who she is. Just like Marguerite. And yourself."
"What exactly are you saying? That I'm in danger too?"
"You are the Chosen One's Guardian, Lord Roxton. The fate of you three has been linked before time was time. The Protector of the Plateau, the Chosen One and the Guardian," he counted the names on his fingertips. Pausing, Bochra tilted his head to one side and continued, "Do you believe that everything has a reason and a purpose?"
"I did once," Roxton hesitated, re-seating himself.
"Before the death of your brother," Bochra said and allowed himself a smug smile when Roxton's bowed head jerked up, startled. "Oh, I know all about you, Lord Roxton. But don't you see? If you hadn't of made that mistake, then you would have never come to the plateau, never met Marguerite. And it's here that you're needed. She needs you."
"Stop talking in riddles! What the bloody hell is going on here?" Roxton pleaded.
"Evil has returned," Bochra said darkly. "And you are the only ones who can stop it."
TBC
