The Guardians Chronicles: Resurrection

By Ann H Barlow

Unable to accept Romero’s advice to put the past behind her Sahara continues to seek vengeance on Barak while Go’el is determined to fulfill his destiny as pertained by ancient scrolls held by a Tibetan monk. To achieve his aim Go'el uses Sahara in an elaborate plan to get the other Guardian’s approval and to fulfill his own need for revenge against his father, and his burning desire to be reunited with his mother, Cassandra.

As Barak continues to wreak havoc in an already desperate world by reversing the the magnetic field causing further mayhem and destruction, and bringing industry to a grinding halt Sahara and Go’el work together to bring about his downfall.

Sahara embarks on a romance that gives her some solace but still she cannot rest and takes extreme measures to achieve her ambition to rid the world of Barak, a ploy that has unforseen consequences as Go’el’s hidden agenda is revealed.

But not content with that, Go’el goes ahead with his plan to resurrect his dead mother Cassandra, an act that leaves the young Guardian emptier than before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ann H Barlow
• Release date: May 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311591586

Ann H Barlow

Ann Henrietta Barlow was born in Dumfries, Scotland and moved to England at the age of 14.She has traveled extensively and has become familiar with many different cultures.Ann currently lives between Malta and the UK with her husband Guy.

Book preview

The Ceremony

Colin tried to make himself comfortable as he crouched on the wooden floor of the strange room where he lay in waiting. The narrow aisles, where he huddled between rows of seats, did not lend themselves to his muscular frame, but he refused to let discomfort deter him. The door was open at the far end of the room, and Colin wiped the sweat from his brow as he watched intently while Go’el took a seat on the sofa in an office at the side of the huge room. It was evident that the young Guardian and the ancient Asian man, who accompanied him, were comfortable in each other’s company. There was a familiarity between them that could not be mistaken, and although Colin was unable to make out what was being discussed, he sat riveted to the spot, He felt vindicated and almost relieved that he caught the young Guardian in the act.

The atmosphere in that strange room emitted an energy he had felt many times before, and he knew an extraordinary event was about to take place. Given the tension he felt in the theatre, he was sure he was about to discover what that energy was, and he had no intentions of leaving until he found out what was going on and what had brought Go’el and his companion to the heart of London’s Chinatown.

Colin congratulated himself that he had resisted giving in to Sahara’s request to stop following Go'el. She may be satisfied with the young man’s performance in Dubai—although she was yet to explain what it was that had made her suddenly trust Go’el, so implicitly—but Colin still had his reservations where Barak’s son was concerned. It took six months, and though he spotted Go’el today by complete chance, it made every minute of the precious time he spent on the chase worthwhile. Although, he doubted his wife, Karen, would agree with his conclusion.

Colin was hiding in what appeared to be the main auditorium of the temple where he had followed Go’el and his companion. It was an enormous room, reminiscent of an old theatre; there were seats all around, raised on every level, and the high walls were painted bright red and crowned by a domed ceiling with ornate lead decorations on the encased windows. The level area in the centre was full of screens, the same shade of red as the walls, and bore gold script that he guessed had to be Mandarin.

The screens were positioned four rows deep around the centre of the room, and the corners almost touched. At the front of the screens, there was a row of giant candles, and in the centre there were various red circles. The inner circle was painted red, and the outer circles had alternative red and white lines; the lines thinned out as they got nearer to the candles.

Impatience began to creep in. Keeping his position was uncomfortable. It was a tight fit, and he had to shuffle his weight around to avoid cramp, but as he predicted the action soon began, as two young Asian boys came into the room with a trailer. They proceeded to wheel the trailer into the middle of the room, and when they removed the cover, to Colin’s surprise, they revealed a monkey.

The creature seemed pretty tame, and Colin found it odd that it was chained to two metal pillars welded onto the trailer.

‘Talk about overkill’, he thought to himself.

The men then pushed through two extremely large seats before they left and secured the outer doors of the auditorium. The seats were enormous pieces of furniture and could have been more appropriately referred to as thrones. The entire seating area that included the high backs was edged with ornate gold carvings and covered in ivory velvet upholstery with an abstract gold print that looked a bit like the letters on the screens. Unlike the screens, the script on the stalls was printed vertically on a scroll.

When everything was in place, Go’el, and the old man moved from the room on the fringe of what was a ceremonial arena and took their place at each side of the monkey.

In front of the giant seat where the old man sat, there was a series of gold pillars, and on the lowest pillar lay what must have been the largest book Colin had ever clapped eyes on. It was open, and the leaf was marked by a large cream and red ribbon with fringes at the top and bottom, but from where Colin was positioned, it was impossible to see what was written on the pages of the book.

Behind the book, on a higher pillar, there were two ornate bowls placed in the centre, one behind the other. The taller vessel had a channel that led to the one below. Both items looked extremely old, but he had no idea of their history. He was not familiar with antiques of any description.

The monkey was quite still, and though it was bound to the trailer by both its arms and legs, it remained docile. Instead of protesting at being trussed up, it looked pleadingly at its captors as if waiting for an act of mercy. At first glance, it appeared the monkey had been drugged, but after taking a closer look, Colin could see the animal was alert. He felt sympathy for the animal’s plight, but he was clearly not in a position to interrupt the proceedings.

The room was deathly quiet until a young man, whom Colin had seen earlier, walked confidently into the circle. He was dressed in black in what appeared to be ceremonial attire more akin to what Colin usually associated with B-rated Japanese Kung Fu movies than anything he had previously seen in Chinatown. He held a long, narrow sword with an intricate jeweled handle that he held across his chest with his right hand.

The man in black walked briskly and then dropped to his knees about thirty feet in front of the animal. As Go'el's companion looked over at him, Colin checked to see what his reactions were, but Go’el showed no emotion. He simply nodded, and the old man lifted his withered arm in the air, and made eye contact with the man in black. As soon as he did, he quickly lowered his arm as a signal to start the event.

The man in the ceremonial garb acted swiftly, and while chanting in some strange language, he lifted his lithe young body from the floor in one smooth motion that indicated to Colin he was well practiced in that particular discipline. He moved towards the restrained beast. With both hands grasping the ornate handle of his sword, he lurched forward, and with surgical accuracy, he pierced the monkey in the heart.

There was no noticeable delay as the monkey slumped before its executioner the instant the blade ruptured its vital organ, and the dead animal’s blood flowed freely onto the trolley that held the remains of the beast. The animal lay still while its life force gathered in the hollow grooves in the floor of the trolley.

As soon as it was over, the young boys, who had positioned the monkey in the circle, returned. They wheeled the animal in front of the pillars and situated themselves at either at either end of the trolley and remained stationary.

Colin was confused. There seemed to be no logical explanation for the act he had witnessed. He did not trust the boy, but at the same time, he was sure that Go’el was not some freak who got his kicks from the mindless slaughter of helpless animals. It seemed unlikely in the extreme that, with the power Go’el possessed, and what he was capable of if he was that way inclined, a deliberate act of cruelty on some animal was at the heart of what he had just witnessed. If he wished, Go’el could have taken out the entire building and everything in it without moving from his present position.

Colin’s instinct told him to get the hell out of there, but his curiosity won. He had seen enough to make him feel uncomfortable about the situation, but not enough to satisfy his need to find out what Go’el was up to. He suspected Go'el or his companions would be unwilling to fill him in on the details if he were to come clean and declare himself. And also that he would not be acquiring the information he wanted by force. His martial arts were OK, but after watching the assassin's performance, he was acutely aware he would be unable to match his skills.

Go’el’s companion started babbling words he seemed to be reading from the gigantic book in a language that Colin was unable to recognise from any he had heard on his travels, which was hardly surprising as the old man was speaking in a dialect that had not been commonly used for centuries. The ancient tongue originated with the Xia Dynasty, the first dynasty in China to be described in antiquated historical chronicles.

The Xia ruled between 2205 and 1766 BC. They made the elaborate ritual and ceremonial vessels Go’el and his friends were using for the sacrament by adapting weapon-casting technology. The three-dimensional forms they developed were symbols of influence and power, and as they represented the cultural achievements of the time, the bronzes acquired a significant importance when ancient Chinese characters were inscribed on them. The earliest form of Chinese writing was inscribed on the vessel and formed records of the bronze culture and of ancient Chinese civilisation.

The old Chinese man spent his life studying the Xia and the magic rituals they performed. At almost ninety, he was a master of his craft and was considered to be the most revered wizard of modern times.

Wu Xiong picked up a wicker basket from the side of his chair and extracted the live chicken that had, until then, been out of Colin’s view. He held its head while the chicken struggled to break free, clucking loudly while feathers flew in every direction. He laid the beleaguered bird on the middle of the pillars above the opened book, holding it firmly as the younger man took the dagger he held in a sheath around his waist.

He stepped in quickly and sliced through the chicken’s outstretched neck. Its head rolled down the side of the pillar and was ignored as he proceeded to take the bird from Wu Xiong and drain the blood from the dead animal into the ceremonial vessel on the middle pillar.

Meanwhile, Wu Xiong placed the chicken’s head on a wire skewer that overhung the bowl. When it was done, Wu Xiong and the assassin dipped their hands in the warm red life force and held them up in the air while starting towards the monkey.

As the pair chanted in the same incomprehensible tongue, dancing around the dead beast while sprinkling it with the chicken blood, the assassin laid the vessel at the monkey’s feet. The Chinaman threw a cloak over the monkey, and they danced and chanted some more, stopping from time to time to dip their hands in the bowl and sprinkle more blood on the blanketed beast.

Colin watched in silence as the executioner, and his companion performed their ritual, surprised at the fluidity of the movements of such an extremely old man. He knew that whatever they were doing had to be remarkable. Go’el was not in the habit of wasting his time, but the scene Colin witnessed looked so ridiculous, he almost laughed. He had never seen such a ritual and was unable to imagine what in hell they were up to.

After a short while, Colin was sure he detected some movement from behind the veil. He started to become alarmed, thinking that perhaps it was all some practical joke Go’el was playing on him. He was sure the young Guardian would be aware of his presence by then. But he quickly realised the performance had been premeditated; who had a monkey and a chicken hanging around?

He had not felt afraid until then. He looked around the room for an escape route while at the back of his mind, he knew that there was no way out; there were guards at the bottom of the stairway and the windows on the top floor had iron bars on them. He had a hunch the high level of security was there because of him, and he was on the mark.

Colin regretted his unfortunate habit of turning up uninvited and decided he needed to let his head rule in the future. The more he saw, the less likely it seemed there would be a future, and the fact that they let him continue to watch the spectacle made him feel all the more uneasy.

On confirmation that there was no way out, he continued his vigilance and before long he realised that he was not mistaken; the dead animal was moving. He could see from his position the sword that was still poked out from the beast’s back—or at least it was until the monkey withdrew the weapon from its chest while simultaneously throwing the veil from its head with its free hand—and after the sword made its way through the monkey’s ribs, the animal threw the weapon to the ground and watched as the wound healed on his once-injured chest.

Taken aback by what was going on, Colin lost all restraint and let out a loud gasp. It was as if he had just watched the previous event backwards, except it was not the assassin’s hand that withdrew the offending weapon. The entire episode lasted no more than thirty seconds. He immediately regretted his outburst, knowing that if they were unaware he was present they sure as hell would be alerted after his emotional display.

Unconcerned by his presence, he was ignored by Go’el and his companions while the ritual continued. The monkey seemed to be fully recovered from the injury it had sustained, but instead of the placid animal that had entered the room, it had become a fierce, growling fiend, and it was no longer difficult to understand the reason for the restraints.

It was one of the strangest things he had ever seen, and Colin had witnessed some decidedly unusual events. They had resurrected the monkey. It was no trick; he saw the creature die, and less than half an hour later, it was alive.

As Colin tried to make sense of what had just transpired, he tried desperately once again to work out a way to escape, but in the end, he had to admit defeat.

2. Can’t Let Go

One Month Earlier

It was three a.m., and Sahara was unable to sleep. She felt—and justifiably so—that she was not living her life. Instead, she dragged herself from day to day; her existence little more than a ritual.

Unable to quell her antipathy for Barak it engulfed her, and she was reduced to going through the motions in a robotic state; it was never what she had planned for herself, and she had no intention to settle for such a deal. Sahara had to find a way to put it to rest.

Her mind raced as she paced the floor of her freshly decorated bedroom. The whole house had been renovated over the course of the past few months, and only one piece of the original furnishing remained. She needed change; things could not stay as they were. She would have moved house, but Amara was still at university, and it was not practical, and in all probability, she would have had to explain to Amara what prompted her to move.

What Sahara wanted was to take her life back, the life she had before Barak took his revenge on Go’el and involved Amara.

As she paced, she went over and over the same scenario. She could see Amara as she lay there in the chalet in Dubai with that monster holding her. It haunted her.

She had failed her daughter on so many levels and wondered what kind of mother she was when she could anticipate and solve problems for complete strangers, yet she was unable to save Amara from such an affront.

She could hardly bear to think of what he had done to her, and though she was fond of Go'el, she resented that he had pulled Amara into his family feud. She was angry and frustrated at her inability to stop the event and outraged at the ferocity of the rage that lay within her, which she did not dare fully acknowledge, let alone share—not even with her closest confidant, Romero.

She listened to Romero when he said it would take time to rectify the situation, and there was no alternative but to accept what had happened and move on. It was true, the past could not be altered, but she was far from satisfied with his resignation, and was not prepared to let go of her wrath; she owned it and felt it was the emotion that would help bring her through this ordeal.

She had to find a way to destroy Barak or if that was not possible, to at least rid the earth from the scourge he continued to inflict on mankind. It had to be. If Barak could find a way to imprison Romero with the help of one old decrepit human, then surely with four Guardians employed on it, the plan could be devised that would succeed in getting rid of Barak.

The long periods of time she spent on the borders of Pakistan with the Afghan refugees, where morale continued to worsen did not help to ease her state of mind. The mood of the people had deteriorated with each catastrophe, and there was a constant threat of attack from the Taliban, who continued to gather in the mountains.

Without faith in a better future, the difficulties they faced seemed insurmountable; a void had opened up in the lives of those unfortunate souls who inhabited the camp, and it became wider with each day that passed. The once-smiling faces that greeted her at the Pakistan border had been replaced with expressions of despair. Many of the people were so disturbed, they refused to eat the meagre rations they were allotted. There seemed no end to their misery, and they were beginning to give up hope of recovery.

Sahara knew her negativity was counterproductive and highly illogical. She had faith in Romero, and that would never alter. It was only a matter of time before he found a solution. Whatever problem they faced, he would not fail them. However, she was no longer prepared to rely on another being, not even Romero, to rectify the wrongs that had been done. Not after what had happened to her daughter.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Amara entered her room. She sat on the green dressing-room chair, the only item that remained of her old furnishings and stared at her mother.

Sahara found it impossible to hide her distress.

Why are you so unsettled? I really do wish you’d tell me what’s bothering you.

Please, my love let it be.

How can I? You have paced this floor every night for weeks now, and I can feel your heartache, but you refuse to share what’s troubling you. Amara was concerned for her mother’s state of mind. At first, she worried that perhaps her great-grandmother was ill and that her mother was trying to hide it from her, but Isobel was not the source of her mother's consternation. She was sure of it.

Amara’s powers had developed at an astonishing rate since her alliance with Go’el, and it was difficult for Sahara to hide much from her. However, no matter how difficult it had become, Sahara had no other option but to suppress the reasons for her distress; she had no desire to share the enmity she felt for Barak, especially not with Amara. To do so would mean she would have to explain the rationale behind her hostility. True, there had always been animosity between them, but that had been taken to another level.

There are some things that we have to deal with alone. If I could share it with you, I would, but not this time. This is a matter I need to work out for myself.

Amara was hurt by her mother’s rejection of her help. Don’t you trust me?

There’s no one in the universe I trust more, please don’t think that for a moment.

Amara felt unable to drop the subject. It’s not about Go’el, is it? I know Colin’s still wary of him, but there’s no reason why you should be. You know what he’s done, and the turmoil he had when he turned his back on his father. It wasn’t easy for him.

No, it’s not Go’el. It was the truth when I gave you my blessing. I don't hold with Colin's suspicions, but you’re already aware of my feelings on this subject, so stop doubting me. I was glad to admit I was wrong about Go’el, especially as it was you who’d be hurt most if he failed to live up to your faith in him. Please, darling, I don't want to talk right now; can’t you just let it be? I can assure you that you there is no need to worry about me.

It’s just that it pains me to see you like this. I can’t bear it.

Every moment I share with you eases my troubles. Sahara walked over to Amara and cupped her face in her hands. She stared into her daughter’s clear blue eyes and smiled. I promise. It will pass. But as she uttered the words, she felt a stab in her heart. She felt a searing pain, the knowledge that she had just lied to the being she deemed the most significant entity in her world.

But Sahara had grown used to having to suppress her inner feelings of late, and she let go of her despair so that Amara would return to her own room. She wanted to be alone. She needed to find a way through her anger. She had to do so before the hatred she felt turned to bitterness. Sahara could see that to dwell on such emotions might destroy her and as disillusioned as she was, she did not want that.

Much to her annoyance, Amara refused to let it go.

I could sleep with you if you like. It’s been a long time since we did that, and maybe we could chat and have some fun as we used to when I was little.

In part, Amara was acting out of self-interest. She wanted to spend the time with her mother. They had been so busy they had hardly seen each other over the last few weeks.

Not tonight. I’d rather be on my own. Really, darling and you have an early start. I’ll be fine. I’m rather tired now. It won’t take long before I’m asleep, she lied.

Amara still was not entirely happy, but she respected her mother’s request and returned to her room.

It took Sahara some time before she finally managed to drop off, and it seemed as if she had no sooner fallen asleep when she heard Colin ring the front doorbell and seconds later, Amara charged downstairs to greet him.

Before he could get his key out of the lock, Amara opened the door.

You ready? he asked her unceremoniously.

What do you think? Amara stepped back and did a full twirl to show off her new outfit and playfully posed with one hand on her hip and the other behind her head when she came to a halt.

Not bad for a sprog. I hope he appreciates it. But he had no doubt that Go’el would approve. She was a beautiful girl, and more than that, she was an angel.

Colin had long since stopped any attempt to hide his true opinion of Go’el. It was a waste of time, they could detect his disapproval. He was well aware it annoyed Amara and her mother, but he could not quell his reservations. There was something about the boy, and even if they were superhuman, it did not mean their instincts were always right. He had seen a few slip-ups from their side before today.

He will. She was radiant, and though he felt she was naive where Go’el was concerned, Colin was happy for her. It was their first trip together, and they were doing it the conventional way. Although she had already travelled much of the world, it was to be her first flight.

Colin had never visited Tibet, and he was unable to understand why anyone would want to spend time there, except perhaps a Buddhist monk. The mountainous region seemed an odd location to take a girlfriend on vacation, but it was none of his business.

So sure of ourselves, are we? You’ve come a long way from the Amara who thought her new boyfriend might not wait a few minutes for her at the gates of the university, he teased.

True, Colin, but you haven’t come very far.

There was no animosity in Amara's voice, but Colin was acutely aware her reference was a dig about his distrust of Go’el, though she had no wish to dwell on his negative feelings towards the young Guardian. It was too painful to think that someone she loved and admired as deeply as she did Colin could think badly of Go’el. Still, Amara could forgive his doubts as she knew Colin had her best interests at heart, so she let it go unchallenged, and instead of making an effort to defend her lover, she turned her thoughts to her mother.

Amara was impatient to leave. She had already said ‘goodbye’ to Georgina when she delivered some Lemsip to her room the night before. Georgina had a dreadful dose of flu, and Amara insisted she stay in bed and not venture down stairs to see her off. She was so ill, the usually unstoppable housekeeper was glad to be excused.

Sahara was dressed but was reluctant to go downstairs. It was not Amara and Go'el’s trip to Tibet that troubled her; it was that, on their return, Amara would leave her home to live with Go’el. It had all happened so fast. She had been with Amara less than three years, and the light of her life was about to go off and make a life on her own—a life that would include her—but it was the everyday experiences she would miss. A part of her was happy that Amara had found love, but the mother in her found it difficult to let go.

Sahara rebuked herself. It was no way to behave. What was she doing? It was selfish and beneath her to drag their parting out. Amara had to depart for the airport soon, and Sahara did not want it to be a traumatic experience. As happy as she was, Sahara was aware her daughter did have some regrets about leaving; that was evident when she had asked to stay with Sahara the night before.

She moved quickly to the door, and in a bid to force her unwilling heart to face the inevitable, she almost threw herself through it.

You look beautiful, darling. What a lucky boy Go’el is to have someone as wonderful as you.

Biased, but true, Colin added. Come on, ladies, we need to roll.

I’m going to miss you guys. Amara rushed over to her mother and gave her a hug. They had decided earlier it was better they said their goodbyes at home rather than drag it out at the airport.

She gave Colin a hug too and much to his embarrassment, he had tears in his eyes. He also felt the loss keenly. He could hardly believe that Amara was about to set up house with Go’el or admit how much he would miss her being around. They lived in such a close-knit circle and had shared so much for