AN/ Hi there. I'm sorry for taking so long with the updates, but like I've said before these chapter takes some time to make...There are so much information that needs to be told at exactly the right places and at the right time...
Thank you so much for all the reviews. It's so great to read all your thoughts about this story. There were a lot of you who had thoughts and ideas to answer all of the questions popping up in this story so far.
Shout out to CrazyFangirl97 who noticed that the first letters of the names of the victims spelled the word F.I.R.E.G.U.A.R.D.
And to Swagmasterlol who got suspicious about Evelyn's soul looking like it did in the painting. You're on to something...;)
And to guest reviewer Coryhori who figured out what the thing they've been looking for really was.
And last but definitely not least a major SHOUT OUT to guest reviewer Sapphire333, who managed to figure everything out from above, plus guess who the person walking in on Jack by the end of the last chapter was, and also noticing the differences in the curse. And even some more... Great job! Can't thank you enough for your amazing reviews Sapphire333.
And to those of you who still don't know the answers, you will find out some of them in this chapter...
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kickin' it.
AND ALSO A WARNING! This chapter contains some darker themes. (not too bad though)
Enjoy...
Chapter 18
The Secrets of the Brotherhood
"I-I-I can explain," Jack stuttered, looking fearfully at the person standing in the doorway. How long had he been watching us?
The man had eyed Jack with an unreadable stone-like expression on his face, but he now seemed to soften and a smile appeared on his lips.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he excused and extended a hand. "I'm Edward Finnegan. But everyone just calls me Finnegan."
"Jack Brewer," Jack introduced as he hesitantly shook Finnegan's hand.
"I know what you're thinking. But I can assure you that I am related to Irene Norton, even though we don't share the same surname. My grandpa was a member of the order, and my mother's maiden name was Norton, but she took my father's name when she married him." Finnegan explained just like that to the confused teen, not seeming to care at all that he'd found Jack snooping around in top secret stuff. Jack just looked at him, not knowing what to think. "I'm used of having to explain… So…" The man shrugged and glanced around the room. I cringed, sitting fully exposed on the table. Thankfully the place was filled with so much stuff that he didn't seem to notice me. At least that's what I thought. "I can see that you've already taken a look around…"
"Sorry, I…" Jack began.
"Don't worry," Finnegan held up a hand to stop Jack from rambling excuses. "No harm done…" He said and looked straight at me, his friendly expression changing into a serious one. Jack noticed and quickly picked me up.
"He's with me," Jack explained. "He's injured so I take care of him." He held me against his chest and I couldn't help but blush. Taking the opportunity, I pressed my ear against him, listening to his heart beat. A tingling feeling filled me and I didn't notice the suspicious glance I received from Finnegan.
"So, Bernard showed you around, huh?" he said flatly.
"Yes"
"Then I take it that he's taken you through the eastern hallway as well…" Jack gave him a questioning look. "You know, down where the 'torture chamber' is." Finnegan said quite nonchalantly, making air quotes around 'torture chamber'.
"No" Jack answered hesitantly, while instinctively tightening his hold of me.
"Oh, he hasn't showed you?" the man said, looking surprised. "That's the best part. C'mon, there's nothing interesting in here."
Finnegan led Jack out of the room and straight across the great hall, towards the other door, similar to the one we'd just exited. My friend couldn't resist but throwing a glance at the painting of Gabriella and Finnegan noticed.
"Beautiful isn't she?" he said. Jack quickly averted his gaze, looking down at me, his cheek slightly red.
"Um…yeah," he mumbled.
"She was Robert Kingsley's fiancée. He was completely devastated when she left."
"Left?" Jack and I looked confused at Finnegan. I hadn't been able to stop myself and I suddenly got eye contact with him. Quickly realizing my mistake, I looked away, scolding myself for forgetting to act as a bird and I hoped that he hadn't noticed reaction.
"Yes. Right after Evelyn was defeated, Gabriella went to sacrifice herself so that she one day could return the same way Evelyn would. Robert made this painting in memory of her, and for the next generations recognize her when she comes back…" Finnegan said, never taking his eyes off of me. I did everything that I could to not act suspiciously and it seemed to work, because Finnegan eventually turned back to the door, opening it.
Another corridor lay ahead of us, just as dark as every other room in this building. Jack followed Finnegan close by as if he was afraid of being left behind. The man took a right turn and led us down a stairway, to the cellar.
As if the rest of the place hadn't been dark and spooky enough, the cellar was down right creepy. The walls and the floor were out of grey stone bricks, making it feel like we were inside a medieval castle. The air was much cooler down here and I shuddered, pressing myself closer to Jack. For once I was happy to be a small bird.
The room we were in was fairly small, but had four doors. Two to the left, one right next to the stairs and one in front of us. On the walls hung old black and white photos, giving the place a ghostly feeling. Most of the pictures were of large groups of men. At the bottom of each photograph was a date of year, probably from when it was taken. The later the dates, the better the quality of the images. The men were all dressed up and placed in such a way that everyone would be sure to be seen. Some of them were shown in more than one picture, although a clear age difference could be seen in their faces. My best guess would be that they had all been members of the Brotherhood.
In the middle of the room there was an exhibition case, containing a real axe and a torch arranged in the same way as they were on the crest of the Fireguard. Both of the artefacts looked really old and worn.
"Welcome to the dungeons, as I call it" Finnegan said jokingly. "It's more of a museum really, but this place has always given me the chills." He seemed excited about this place and just talking about it, brought a smile to his face.
"Are these…?" Jack started, examining the items inside the glassed showcase.
"Yes, they are the actual tools that Robert used that night," Finnegan answered proudly. "They are probably the order's most valuable possessions. If you don't count the dagger of course…" he mumbled.
"Dagger?"
"Evelyn's dagger. We keep it in a safer place, for obvious reasons…But these things here are so much cooler…"
Jack just nodded, looking at the axe and the torch. Finnegan stepped up beside him, watching him carefully as he said in almost a whisper;
"You see these things have fought and defeated dark magic." Jack shot him a sideways glance, suddenly very aware of how close the man was and he awkwardly leaned away from him. "Of course over the years there have been a lot of other things people have come up with to keep evil away…" Finnegan said and walked over to one of the doors to the left. "Which leads us to…" he swung the door opened and gestured for Jack to go through.
~~~~Wings of Love~~~~
I had thought that Finnegan had joked when he called this place 'the dungeons' or 'torture chamber'. It turned out though that it wasn't far from it. The maze of rooms he'd taken us through had been full of horrid artwork, showing witch hunting in its most cruel nature. There were pictures of trials, hangings, witches being burned or executed in other brutal ways. In one room stood an old wooden chair, which was attached by the legs to what seemed to have been a long balk. It was roughly made and the balk had been broken, leaving only about 8 feet of it still intact.
"What's with the chair?" Jack wondered.
"That's a ducking stool," Finnegan said dramatically.
"A what?" Jack studied the strange construction, trying to understand how it functioned.
"A ducking stool. This right here…" Finnegan pointed at the balk. "…is a free-moving arm which was secured to a platform on the ground, while the stool was held in the air above a river." The man looked at Jack, who still seemed a bit confused to what had been the point of that exactly. "It's a very effective interrogation device. Simply place the accused one in the chair and if they refuse to tell you what they're hiding, then just duck them into the water. After a minute or so they usually would talk."
"That's torture," Jack frowned. Finnegan shrugged rather nonchalantly.
"Not really, considering what other methods they used in the 15th -18th centuries. Like stacking rocks upon the accused one, until they confessed or was squashed to death, putting them in iron boots filled with hot oil, whipping, dislocating of their limbs using the rack or the ever so popular strappado… This here is clearly one of the more human things they invented." Finnegan shot Jack a glance and couldn't help but smile at the boy's expression of disgust, seeming to find amusement in creeping him out, much like my older cousin who'd loved to scare me with ghost stories when I was little.
"That's awful," Jack said. "What if you were innocent?" Finnegan studied Jack's face intensely for a moment, making the teen feel uncomfortable.
"There are certain ways to sort out witches and warlocks from ordinary people…" The man stepped closer to Jack who tensed from his personal space being invaded. "People having engaged with the devil have been marked…" Finnegan said, still eyeing Jack like crazy while continuing to inch closer.
"Marked?"
"Yes… Every person individually, still all the same. Everyone carrying his mark… Then there are certain behaviours and sometimes even abilities that are not granted us ordinary mortals that can tell us if someone possesses magical powers…"
Jack stood stiff as a board, his hand clutching my small body. Finnegan was so close now, he whispered the last words in Jack's ear. It was something with the atmosphere down here along with all the old images and Finnegan's good but creepy way of showing us around that made the situation feel spooky and almost threatening.
I sank deeper into Jack's hold, searching the safety it brought me. Being here felt like we'd travelled back in time and landed right in the witch hysteria of the 15th to 17th century. We'd read about this in school and until now I had been certain that the witch hunts spreading through Europe and over to America had all been a waste. Innocent people had died for nothing, because of people's fear. But facing the facts that I was a bird and one very real witch was walking around in disguise at this moment, I had started to believe that the horrors of the past hadn't just been because of superstition. Maybe the witch hunters had had their reasons after all…
None the less, the history of witch hunting had been horrific for sure, and it made me wonder how exactly they dealt with witches today…
As if reading my thoughts Finnegan said;
"Of course nowadays we have a lot more sophisticated ways to hunt down and stop witchcraft." He put his arm around Jack's shoulders as if he was an old friend. Jack didn't protest, but I could tell that he wasn't completely comfortable with it.
"After centuries of fighting evil, mankind have found out a thing or two about it. The number one most effective protection from any sorcery is silver." Finnegan explained as he walked us through yet another door. "Silver creates a shield, which magic is unable to penetrate."
Jack took one look into the room and stopped abruptly. Finnegan gave him a curious glance, seeming surprised by the boy's reaction. I could feel Jack's heart having picked up speed, which to me made perfect sense. The room was completely filled with unpleasant things. Along the walls hung chains, shackles and other metal things I'd never seen before. But judging by the shape and constructions of them, my best guess would be that they were some sort of torture or restraining devices. Some of the things might even have worked as weapons, like the pitchforks and spears.
I was more than happy that I didn't know how half the things worked though. The things that I actually did recognize were more than creepy enough. I mean, there even hung a cage from the ceiling, just big enough to fit a human body and over to the right stood a wooden construction, looking like a bed/table kind of thing with a roller on each end.
"What is this place?" Jack said, sounding anxious.
"This is our armoury. Everything here is uniquely designed to fit our purposes."
"Your purposes?" Jack frowned, looking around the room with a mixture of horror and scepticism.
"Fighting dark magic." There was pride in Finnegan's voice as he said that and I bet he thought of himself as some sort of knight.
"It looks like a medieval dungeon," Jack stated. I agreed. It really did look like a dungeon.
"It does, doesn't it? Complete with the rack and everything," Finnegan said, walking over to the wooden construction and putting his hand on it. "This is an exact replica of the one being used in Yorkshire in the 15th century. Pretty cool, huh?"
"I guess so…" Jack said. The man smiled and turned to him.
"You wanna try it?" he joked.
"No thanks," Jack's eyes widened slightly as he instinctively took a step back, shaking his head. Finnegan just shrugged and walked over to a cupboard that was tucked away in one of the corners. Pulling out a drawer, he gestured for Jack to come closer. Jack hesitantly stepped into the room, careful to stay as far away as possible from anything hanging down from the ceiling or the walls, as if he expected the chains to reach out and snatch him or for one of the pointy objects looking like a spear to thrust out and stab him. I didn't blame him. This place truly gave you the chills and it was hard not to become paranoid.
"Like you said boy," Finnegan started. "This place looks like a historic dungeon; still... everything here is different…" He picked up a few objects from the drawer, which I missed to see. However Jack caught a climbs of them.
"Are those bullets?" he wondered.
"Yes," Finnegan opened his hand, to give Jack a better view of them. "And not just any bullets. These are made out of silver, just like the rest of the things in this room." Both Jack and I automatically took a look around us. I wasn't fully convinced that everything was made out of silver. Most of the things had that really dark colour that only iron would have. Finnegan obviously noticed Jack's sceptic expression. Reaching out he grabbed a nearby cuff hanging by the end of a chain that was attached to the wall.
"At first sight this will look just like any ordinary iron shackle, but if you look closely, you can see the small line of silver right here." Holding the tip of his thumb where the line was, he held it out for Jack to see. "A witch or warlock would easily break through iron with the help of magic. But with a bit of silver in the way; all kinds of sorcery are useless." He let go of the shackle, the chain rattling as it hit the wall. "Just as silver is the only thing that can hold a witch, it is also the only thing that can penetrate a devilish being and end it." The man clutched the ammo in his hand for emphasis while Jack gave him a look of dislike.
"So what you're saying is that you execute people?"
"No, no, of course not," Finnegan chuckled, seeming to find it amusing that Jack would make that conclusion. "We would never kill people. We stop dark forces, keeping Evelyn and the likings of her away at all costs."
"At all costs?" Jack said, "Doesn't that mean that you are prepared to kill?"
Finnegan didn't seem to have heard what he'd said or he just ignored it as he put the bullets back down.
"What's that?" Jack wondered, having spotted a fork like object in the drawer.
"Oh, you mean this?" Finnegan picked it up. It looked like a fork with just two sharp points in either end of it so that you couldn't really tell what was up or down on it. It was about eight inches or so and the middle of it was attached to a leather strap with a buckle. "This is Heretic's Fork. Very good if you're dealing with someone particularly stubborn… This strap goes around the neck, placing the fork in front, so that one end is held against the top of ones chest while the other end is held under ones chin, forcing the wearer to tilt their head backwards. If they try to bring the head back down, the fork will pierce them." As he talked, Finnegan had slowly begun to bring the fork closer to Jack until he held it right in front of his face. "If you place someone in an upright position with this on, it's impossible for them to fall asleep. After a couple of days they're usually too tired to not confess what they've been up to." Finnegan had the fork just inches away from Jack now and for a moment it almost looked like he was thinking about putting it on him. "It's amazing how far people are willing to go to keep a secret." He said, giving Jack a strange look. Jack took a step back.
"And it's amazing how far people will go to force it out of someone." Finnegan stalled in his movements, looking as if he was about to say something, but got interrupted before he could, by the old man, standing in the doorway.
"There you two are!" Bernard smiled relieved. "I've been looking all over for you." His smile quickly turned into a frown, looking around the room as if suddenly realizing where they were. "What on earth are you doing down here?"
"Just showing the kid around," Finnegan shrugged nonchalantly, putting the fork away. "Giving him a little taste of the supreme weapons we have to our advantages…"
"And scaring him half to death?" Bernard nodded towards Jack who actually did seem a bit frightened where he stood, looking back and forth between the two men. Finnegan placed a hand on Jack's shoulder confidently.
"I'm pretty sure he can handle it," he said, before lowering his voice into a mumble which Bernard wouldn't be able to hear from where he stood. "Besides I just wanted to point out what he's up against…" Jack shot him a sideways glance as the man gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.
"I'm sure he can. I'll take it from here though. You can leave, Finnegan." Bernard said politely, although there was firmness in his voice, telling you that there would be no use in arguing with that. Finnegan gave him a glare as he reluctantly let go of Jack's shoulder and walked towards the exit. The two members of the Brotherhood locked eyes as they passed each other, unspoken words exchanging between them. Words that would be hidden from anyone who hadn't had a deeper insight of the order.
I glanced up at Jack. He seemed to be just as confused as I was.
Just as Finnegan had reached the door, about to go through it, he turned around.
"I'd be careful if I were you," he said warningly, looking directly at Jack and Bernard. Bernard just straightened his back, watching in silence as his fellow member disappeared.
What the heck was that all about? Why did everyone have to talk in riddles, acting all mystical?
Riddles…Claire…
Thinking about her made me suddenly remember why we were here. We had indeed found out a lot, still we hadn't found what we were looking for yet.
'Find the curse' she'd the curse… the curse… The curse. Of course! The Curse!
"Sorry about that," Bernard said, bringing me back to reality and I had to force myself to keep calm. I needed Jack to take me back to the wall with the curse, but I couldn't do anything to communicate with him now. Not as long as Bernard was around. "So typical Finnegan to bring you down here. I don't know why he likes to scare people like that. It was unfortunate for you to see this…" Bernard made a gesture for us to come along as he headed to the door. Jack quickly followed, eager to leave the dark and unpleasant room behind.
As soon as we were out, I could feel him relax and his grip around me loosened.
"Sir?" he said.
"Yes?"
"All those things back there." Jack received an uncomfortable glance from Bernard, telling him that this was a subject he rather not talked about. "Have you –I mean the order- ever used any of them?"
Bernard didn't answer right away. Rephrasing the question; Jack had sort of asked him if they'd ever tortured someone to death, and the fact that Bernard couldn't answer right away was disturbing, to say the least…
The man turned to Jack with a sigh.
"You have to understand one thing," he started. "We're dealing with supernatural things. It is evil in its most powerful and brutal way. Such extreme forces can only be stopped by extreme measures…"
"So you have killed people," Jack stated, not fully succeeding in covering up the worried tone in his voice.
"Witches," Bernard corrected. "We've destroyed witches."
"Destroyed? Ain't that the same as killed?" Jack said, starting to talk faster. "Is all of this even legal?" He flung his arm out for emphasis.
"Why do you think we have to keep everything in here a secret?" Bernard said as an answer to his question.
Silence.
Bernard had just confirmed that Jack was right, and even though both Jack and I had already suspected it, the truth hit us hard and Jack was unable to say anything as he digested the information. The atmosphere got awkward. It was clear that this was something that had not been meant for Jack to know and Bernard had put himself in an uncomfortable situation.
"Listen," the man said, "I believe to the fullest that witchcraft exists. In fact I know it does. I've seen it." To me Bernard's statement wasn't so strange. I was also convinced that magic existed. But Jack didn't seem to know what to think and he looked at the man with disbelief.
"That's why I haven't left this place;" Bernard finished as he took the lead through the cellar, guiding us back.
"You were thinking about leaving?" Jack said.
"Yes…." He shot a glance at a painting that we passed, showing a witch being burned to death. "The Brotherhood is a good thing and it needs to exist, there's no doubt about it. However… we are but men…There have been mistakes. Some so severe that I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive them…"
"Mistakes?"
"This way," Bernard led us around a corner, avoiding the question. For some reason he wasn't comfortable explaining what he meant and Jack knew better than to ask more. They walked in silence back to the stairs that would take us to the first floor again. With Bernard in front of us, leading the way, I took the opportunity to peck Jack in an attempt to smoothly catch his attention. But in my eager, I was a bit too harsh and my peck was harder than I'd meant for it to be.
"Auch, Bucky!" Jack exclaimed from surprise, almost dropping me. Bernard turned around, looking directly at me.
"What's that you've got there?" he wondered curiously, noticing me for the first time. Taking a step closer he watched me with interest. "Is that a sparrow?"
"Um, yes…" Jack said hesitantly, while pressing me protectively closer to him, causing my cheeks to burn. "I found him."
"And you took a wild animal, just like that?" Bernard raised his eyebrows. He didn't seem mad or suspicious, just curious and a bit surprised.
"He's injured." Jack lied. "I'm just gonna take care of him until his wing has healed.
Bernard nodded understandingly, giving Jack a sympathetic look.
"That's a nice thought, young man. It would seem like the right thing to do, but… I hate to break it to you… I think that it would have a much greater chance of survival if you put it back where you found it. Such small birds easily die from stress, being held captive. It might not even last the night…"
"Why not?" Jack frowned, not really believing that I would die from stress tonight, but still sounding a bit worried.
"I remember my boy Luke and I finding a baby crow once. It'd fallen out of its nest. I told Luke that we better leave it alone, but he insisted on 'helping it'." The man smiled at the memory. "Now, he was a very determined boy and of course I had a weak spot for him. So we took it home in the beliefs that we could feed it and raise it for a few days, until it would be strong enough to fly. Luke spent all afternoon making a home for it out of a shoebox…"
Jack's thumb stroked me over my back as he shifted his weight, recognizing himself in Bernard's story. I think he got the feeling of Bernard comparing him to his son and therefore also having predicted his fate; to mysteriously disappear…
I could feel Jack tense and to tell the truth I did too.
"Poor kid," Bernard continued. "He was so excited the next morning, he ran to the bird as soon as he woke up, just to find it dead." He gave Jack a sad but friendly smile.
"Oh…" Jack said, looking down at me worriedly.
"Tsip," I tweeted to reassure him that I was okay, while pressing my cheek against his chest. The gesture made Jack smile and he looked up at Bernard with a lot more confidence.
"I think Bucky's doing fine with me. I had him since Saturday and he…" Jack stopped talking as he saw Bernard's expression. Maybe he'd said too much…
"Since Saturday? I thought you found him on your way here or something." He mumbled, inspecting me. "Why on earth did you bring him here?"
"I couldn't leave him home alone," Jack answered, without really thinking. After receiving a strange look from Bernard, he quickly added. "He wants to have me around."
Jack looked as if he regretted the words as soon as they'd left his mouth and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. If Bernard hadn't thought Jack carrying around a sparrow was strange before, he certainly did now.
"Did Finnegan see it?" he wondered.
"Yes," Jack answered. The man frowned, looking worried all of a sudden. "Why? Is that bad?"
"I believe you're story, son. But I doubt that he does…" Bernard turned around and started walking. "You better leave quickly."
"What? Why?" Jack had to jog to catch up with the older man who seemed to gotten in a hurry. "What's going on?"
"I like you and I think that you would be a great contribution to the Brotherhood, but the timing is not the best right now. Just go out the door and don't mention to anyone what you've seen or what you've heard in here. In fact don't tell anyone you've been here at all. Avoid everything that has anything to do with us and don't return until next week." Bernard was talking fast, keeping his voice down as if he was afraid someone would hear him.
"What about the assembly on Friday?" Jack wondered confused.
"Don't come!"
"Why?"
"I can't tell you why. Just do as I say." Bernard sounded deathly serious and Jack knew better than to say anything more. Reaching the great hall, I pecked Jack again. This time he just glanced down at me with a questioning look on his face. I pointed with my wing at the double door that would lead us back to the small passage where all the wall paintings of Evelyn and Robert were, as well as the curse.
"What is it, Bucky?" Jack mouthed. I started gesturing as much as I could to let him know that I was on to something. "You found something?"
I nodded frantically. I was sure that I'd figured out what it was we'd been looking for. It was so obvious now that I can't believe I didn't see it before. Claire had actually told me exactly what it was; the curse. It was that simple. She wanted to know what was written on that wall, because it was not the same as what was written in her notebook. Not exactly anyway.
I knew that we were gonna pass the curse again on our way out, all I needed to do was to get Jack to take a picture of it.
There was one problem thought; we weren't alone and I highly doubled that Bernard would allow Jack to take a photo of anything in this building.
My mind was racing, trying to come up with something to get rid of our guide as we made it along the aisle, swiftly advancing towards the double door. I pecked and nibbled on Jack's hand to keep his attention as Bernard opened the door and led us through. Jack was watching me as we did and he didn't notice the man having stopped in front of us, resulting in him walking straight into him, almost squashing me.
"Sorry," Jack mumbled and took a step back while leaning to the side to see what had caught Bernard's attention so suddenly.
Both his and my eyes widened and I think my beak dropped open as we lay eyes on the two persons already occupying the room. An older man, I hadn't seen before and a very familiar blond girl who flashed a bright smile as she saw us…
Another chapter done... with another cliffy at the end...:P
Here's some new questions for you to think about...
1. Who are the two persons in the room, by the end, and what are they doing there?
2. What's going on in Finnegan's head, and why does he bring Jack down in the cellar?
3. What's going on in Bernard's head?
4. Why are they acting the way they do to Jack carrying around Bucky?
5. What are the 'mistakes' the order has made in the past?
OK, I think that was all for now guys. I might be able to send out sneak peeks for the next chapter to those of you who review. And if anyone think they know the answer to one or more of the questions above, please let me know. You'll get a shout out if you're right:)
See you around and thanks for reading!
/MJ