"The city presence fires raged." Somehow that phrase stuck in James' mind for the whole month that the mysterious fires raged in the several inner-city warehouses next to the railway, that were being converted to department stores, go-cart racetracks, and the suchlike.
No one had been able to account for them. A fire that left no traces of how it was started, no traces of what it burnt to start it going, a fire that left nothing standing, nothing apart from scarred concrete. It had got everybody on edge, like cats prowling on razorblades....
He came back to earth and looked again at the strange customer standing in front of him. Already some of the other customers standing behind him were finding other lanes to buy their groceries; already some of the check-out girls were looking at him strangely.
But what can you do with a six-foot something that looks like he hasn't seen the sun in ages, who is - get this - dead-white, or as near as makes no difference, who doesn't speak any language known unto man, or at least known to this seventeen-year old specimen trying to serve him? Who has shades on and has just lowered them to take a good, long look at you? That he was wearing a decent suit and tie made no difference. Just his luck to get the weirdoes, just what James O'Sullivan needs on a hot summer's evening, isn't it!
Then he smiled and pushed a piece of paper towards James. James picked it up and looked at it. Something seemed to go on in his mind and he shoved the piece of paper into the till. Or it seemed he did. He didn't feel too sure about that.
As if his mind was both fogged and clear at one and the same time!
And the tall albino pushed his way through the other shoppers, pushing a vast selection of various produce, meat and vegetables, and a full 20 kilogrammes of rice, out the door.
A light came on in James' mind, and he rang for a replacement at the check-out, logged off the system, grabbed the piece of paper - though what that had to do with anything he couldn't've said - and dashed out the door after the weirdo, only to see him vanish out of the corner of one eye.
It seemed that a vehicle of some sort had just gone down the road, and he dashed to the Riccarton Road bus stop. A bus wheezed in, and he jumped aboard, fuming at the time it took for all the others to get their tickets, then the bus cluttered and wheezed out onto the road.
It was as if the weirdo meant to taunt him. He caught a flash of the weirdo's vehicle out of the corner of his eye again as the bus went through the Middleton/Riccarton Road intersection. And then at Nancy's, it pulled out of the carpark and sped ahead of the bus. Past the Hospital, down the roads into town it just seemed to stay ahead of the bus. James fumed.
He got off at the new bus station on Lichfield Street, and saw the impossible vehicle turn against the traffic and cruise down Colombo Street. The weirdo wasn't visible. Whatever did that mean? James wasn't in any mood for having practical jokes played on him.
That the guy playing this particular practical joke was a total weirdo, totally out of the range of his experience, didn't make any difference. It was still a practical joke, and...
James followed it.
People just don't go through police cordons like they don't exist!
But there stood the weirdo, unpacking his vehicle, parked in the weeds and thistles. The policemen on duty stood staring at the traffic passing over Colombo Street bridge, totally oblivious.
This building had been a storage warehouse way back in the dim dark ages - way back in the 1970s, the Muldoon Era - and the railways had been getting bloated. Now it was an empty shell, and its owners had gone into receivership.
After the last mysterious fire, in one of the warehouses closer to Hagley Park, the City Council had placed a 24-hour police guard on it. James went up to one of the policemen and tried to talk to him, to tell him about the weirdo.
- it won't work, said a voice in his head, almost a whisper in his ears. - he can't see you now, he can't hear you and he won't be able to feel anything you try to do, either.
He looked around, glaring. "Who said that?"
- I did.
The weirdo grinned, inviting him to share the joke. He had his arms around the 20 kilo bag of rice and was lifting it like a prem baby. Gently, carefully ... easily.
"And who the hell do you think you are?"
- Monature is one of the names I was last given by your species, several thousand years ago, as you measure time. I think it meant Hearthfire. Others called me Materizon. That was Wildfire. I prefer Monature.
"Oh, really, and what is that supposed to mean?"
- many things, some of which I am forbidden to tell you.
"Why are you doing this?"
- come over and give me a hand and I'll tell you. what I can tell you. I mean you no harm.
James stood there indecisively for a while, then, what was the point of resisting? He wanted answers. He went over to lend a hand.
Inside the old warehouse he first saw the lights. Some of the reinfored concrete posts and iron beams glowed and sparkled with strange tints. After he put the bag of potatoes down he wandered over to see them closer, but Monature came up and said:
- this is one of the things I am not permitted to discuss with you, apart from the basics. this is a trap for my enemy.
He stared at him and shook his head. "Little Green Men?" He chuckled. Weirdos like this Monature probably had Little Green Men coming out their ears.
Monature looked away, then when he turned his face around to face him, he didn't smile. James got a sudden feeling of the world opening up around him, of depths too deep to be plumbed, of what it was like to live in those spaces, and he shivered. He looked away.
"Is that why you are here? To do this to your enemy?"
- I am glad you followed me of your own accord. it makes things so much easier.
This last was stated in such a flat tone that James looked him in the eye. Things didn't seem quite so secure all of a sudden.
"And what about this?"
James thrust the piece of paper under Monature's nose. "What is this supposed to mean?"
He noticed as he did that the piece of paper held Monature's face, freakish though it was, and some writing in a script he couldn't decipher.
Monature smiled, a warm, settled smile, as if he had been waiting for this question.
- that's a safe-conduct, among other things. it will reward you and yours for the good you do for me.
James stared at him. What good had he done, apart from not calling the police when he had started to question Monature's strangeness? And apparently turning up here was doing good for him? No, he had come here to get some questions answered, and though he couldn't imagine how Monature could speak to him mind-to-mind, at least he felt he was genuine, in some weird, twisted way. Monature at least acted on his beliefs, instead of demanding that everybody else do it all for him. At least Monature wasn't like his boss, forever whining about everything and doing nothing about it.
- anyway, I am finished with unloading the food. you may wander the streets, but remember, they are dangerous for you now.
"Dangers? What is that supposed to mean?" He hated repeating himself!
- this is for my greater enemy. you are with me now, and there are many lesser enemies. watch your life!
Dangerous for him now?
"But you're not saying I have to stay here with you!"
- you're a mortal. wander the streets and watch your fellow mortals, as is your custom.
That was as good a brush off as anything he had ever received. What this "Monature", this "Materizon" had done might've been intended to frighten him off, but James O'Sullivan wasn't about to turn tail and run, particularly when "Monature" hadn't actually told him anything.
He wandered the streets. He stood and stared at the people going into Murphy's, and listened longingly to the band as it started up. A taste of Guinness might be nice, even though he could barely afford it while saving up for his first year at University.
People bumped into him - or rather, they didn't. They bumped through him. Would he be able to hold a mug, let alone taste the Guinness? That didn't seem likely, now.
He turned and wandered through the crowd spilling out onto the footpath, up towards the centre of town. Somehow he didn't think his luck would get much better there, either.
And he was being followed. He felt brief pinpricks of hungry inquiry from behind. He turned, almost fast enough to catch something, except he couldn't.
"Go away," he shouted at last.
But something caught his eye, just outside Southcity Shopping Centre. A pair of eyes, in the shabby tree at the corner of the car park.
He shivered, and hurried on. The eyes became more intense at the Colombo Street/Cashel Plaza intersection, and he felt a pressure almost strong enough to throw him back bodily.
He pushed on past the Cashel Plaza sign and went into the Square. Nothing. Nobody. No one there. Black, bleak, and he knew he had to get back to Monature quickly.
As he turned, a bright flicker on the Cathedral steps caught his eye, and a light went on in the Cathedral. It was still too dangerous. Far too dangerous.
Things were going on that he had no strength to face. He forced his way past the bleakness, uphill against the wind trying to hold him in the Square and drive him away from the Cathedral. But not a leaf stirred in the trees that stood, bleak against the light of the heavens glowering down on him.
He made it out, past Hereford Street, and past the Cashel Plaza, and then the eyes were on him again. Hungry, starving eyes.
But they weren't on him alone. In the darkness he found himself in, where the streetlights couldn't come, that was weirdly comforting.
But the pair of eyes in the shabby little tree at the Southcity Car Park - that drove him, almost screaming, back to the (illusory) comfort of Monature and the empty warehouse.
He found out after he returned, that he was to do the cooking. As indeed, he was to do most of the eating. After all, as Monature pointed out, he was mortal, and most of the food was for him. He didn't feel like quibbling. Hunger takes a lot of the fight out of a human, as Monature also pointed out, and at that James exploded in anger: "So you're not mortal! What's that supposed to mean?"
Monature didn't answer, but instead pointed at the posts and beams, now winking steadily in the night. Then he pointed at a small shadow that came in the door that James had left half-ajar.
- did you bring that other mortal in with you?
James did get a rise out of Monature's shock when the other mortal - good god, what is happening? she's a girl, for goodness' sake! And god, she's good-looking! - wandered into the firelight.
Still, Monature sounded relieved, looking at the girl. Something glimmering flowed from his outstretched arms, past her, and sealed a smaller shadow out in the night, slamming the door shut. She looked over her shoulder as the shadow vanished, and sighed heavily.
- so it's all coming together. well, mortals have a need of it, this coming together...
But Monature did sound shocked, and a bit disgusted.
"Perhaps the great Monature could tell us what's happening? If it isn't too impossible?"
"Who is that freak?" the girl asked.
- how is it you live? was the first thing Monature asked the girl.
"And who the fuck are you?"
Monature drew in a deep breath. This reply wasn't what he had been expecting.
- it is dangerous out there, didn't you know?
"That 'thing' almost got me, yes, I know! You think I didn't see it following me!?!"
James sighed. A girl on edge, screaming at Monature, was the last thing he had had in mind when he had arrived in this warehouse.
"And you, Mr Smart-Ass. Okay, I followed you. I had to. Two days and no food, two days with those things wanting to get me, and I jumped up and ran after you."
She looked at him, a long, appraising look. She patted her hair down, and ran her fingers through a few tangles, watching him sideways to see if he was watching her.
- two days of the sun? Monature was shocked. - and they never got you? how did you do that?
"I hid around the Cathedral. They didn't approach so closely there. But I was starving!"
"What's your name?"
"Anita Robbins, smart-ass. And who do you think you are?"
"I'm James O'Sullivan." He glared at her. "I had nothing to do with why you're here!"
- to the contrary, James. you're the one she followed. and she found safety because you led her here. you've got everything to do with her now.
"But who the fuck are you, weirdo?"
- call me Monature.
"Okay, Mr Monature, but who are you? What are you? And why did those creepy things come after me?"
- I am a guardian. I am a fire. I exist.
"But why did those things come after me?"
- why were you in their world?
"I don't know!" She sounded almost in tears. "One moment I'm getting away from my girlfriend's boyfriend, beause he wanted to grope me whether or not I wanted him to, and the next moment I'm running from these weird things coming after me!"
James had nothing to say. Monature carried on asking:
- and how is it you were getting away from this 'girlfriend's boyfriend'? I don't understand.
"I ran away from home with my girlfriend. She had a boyfriend with a car, and I thought he'd be too into her. But it wasn't. He tried getting his hands on me.
"The creep."
Monature still didn't understand. He shook his head, and Anita stared,
- I still don't understand though, how you, unchosen, came to be in my world. it is dangerous for the untrained mortal. Those things were hungry, and they were after you.
"They were after Mr Smart-Ass here, as well."
- I had given him a safe-pass. had they attacked, there would've been those who would've aided him. you had nothing.
"I told you, I hid in the Cathedral."
- the cathedral? what is that?
"People go there and pray and sing to 'God'. I went there once."
- a god, a place for a god. I think I understand. those places are usually full of power.
Monature paused for a long moment. James watched Anita, who watched Monature. He looked away, and she spoke.
"Is there any way i can get back? To my world, I mean."
- I will return you when I am finished.
"Finished? Finished with me? What about those 'things' out there?"
- those creatures? you are mortal. you should be safe from such creatures. they can't stand iron, and your world is full of it. I still don't understand why you should be in our world!
"And what about him? James?"
- I was told to call him. I don't understand why. but I did, and he followed, out of his own free will.
James was looking away, and doing his best to ignore the other two people - if you could call Monature that - talking, but he raised his head when Anita spoke his name.
"I wish I was out of this, Monature. I wish I had never seen you. I wish, I wish, I wish ..."
- never wish without examining yourself, James. I have lost mortals I cared deeply about, because they wished for the wrong things, and received them. and never wish for one thing three times. you might get it, and find it isn't what you want.
"Well, I wish I had met you earlier, James. You're cute!"
She glared at Monature. "I wish I had met James earlier. I wish I had met James earlier. So there!!!"
James thought she spoiled the dramatic scene she had created by then poking her tongue out at Monature, and then at him, but Monature shrugged his shoulders, a curiously human gesture that James wasn't expecting, and replied:
- it is done. Anita, you have done nothing that was unexpected. I wish you happiness from your choice.
"You what?"
"Just shut up, Anita!"
"And what about you, James?"
"What did I say?"
Anita finally subsided, after nearly screaming the warehouse down, and glowered at him under her lashes. He sighed - a bit too heavily this time - and she pouted.
"And now, Monature - you say you're a guardian. What do you guard?"
- I wish I could tell you.
"But how is it you're here?"
- I have a war against one of those my enemies. Monature pointed at the shut door. - but much stronger. much much stronger.
"And why do you keep calling us 'mortals'?"
- You receive death, as you receive birth. I came to be in the fires of creation. I will cease to be in the fires of this world's destruction, unless my enemy destroys me first.
After a long discussion, James found out that Monature was back from a long exile in his 'homeland', since he had left something unfinished. He was setting up a trap for his enemy, his personal enemy, something like a wild beast. And he was going to be chanting his formulas for success against his enemy. All night and all day if necessary. Two of his personal enemies had been dealt with already and he was sure that the third and most powerful would come to the same sort of call.
Monature wasn't sure about the place mortals had in his private war, but he would try to keep them safe.
"Hey, wait a moment," James said, "if it is a private war, then how come you people sent you back from your own home and its seurity, to take on this enemy all over again?
"Something's a little screwy here, if you don't mind me saying!"
Monature smiled, his eyes fixed on a point impossibly distant. - my private enemy, but a threat to all. so my people sent me back.
Anita stared at him, wide-eyed. He looked at her.
- please remember this, even if your mortal memories are so short, that you mustn't try to fight it yourself. you will need to be away, out of range of this beast's rage, when he turns up to fight me.
"And why?" Anita wanted to know. She sat down and turned her big eyes on Monature, stopping her intermittent and persistent flirtation with James.
- it drinks lives. and the higher the mortal life, the greater its satisfaction.
"Well, why are we here?"
- I must use bait. mortal children, don't be so frightened. I assure you, I will place such a barrier around you that it will not notice you. Then I will attack it and kill it.
James interrupted: "I would rather not be anywhere near it in the first place. What if you've miscalculated?"
- but you were chosen for this. I have no idea why. I would not have chosen you myself, but here you are. Other things have occasionally taken control, and in those circumstances I dance to their tune. And so I must take care of such as you, who get caught up in the wars of the powers.
Anita was restless that night. Monature had had the foresight to buy some blankets as well as the food, and while she tried to sleep, James watched and listened to the chants and the calls. After a while, he could see his face in the bowl of water from all the lights clustering on the poles and beams.
"Why can't you do this some place safe? I mean, out in the desert somewhere?"
- iron is the cusp of the energies. on the tip of releasing it, it can trap it and return it as something useless. I thought you would know that.
"That still doesn't answer my question, damn you! Why, among all these "mortals", if you're so worried about us in the first place?"
- do you wish me 'damned'? I was. then I was told to finish my task, to earn forgiveness.
James gave up and lay down.
After a while Anita snuggled up to him, and they slept.
Some time in the early morning she woke up in the comfortable darkness. Something wasn't so comfortable anymore. She shook him.
A short time later he opened his eyes. "Do you feel something strange? James, I'm so scared. Something's happening and I don't like feeling so helpless."
"I don't know what happening, any more than you do, Anita."
She abruptly laughed, a small terrified echo.
"Well, whatever happens, I feel safe with you."
He hugged her, comfort giving and seeking comfort, bony and soft in the darkness.
Then something gave way. Something came through in the pale darkness. Something touched them in their minds and was gone.
A flash of searing heat, and they blinked the tears out of their eyes for millenia it seemed, before they could focus again.
Monature felt it too, and shouted something at it, a challenge? And that something answered.
A darkness swelled by one of the posts. A lazy hunger, a torturing joy.
- you fool, materizon. i will suck on the marrow of your soul...
- if you catch me, you may do what you will!
- you always loved mortals, as i remember. your weakness.
- if you remember.
Fire flashed for a second by the post, flashed up and lit Monature's face. James felt something grasp Monature tightly.
And then Monature screamed. James and Anita clutched each other. Such agony and anguish in that scream.
- leave, you! mortal! fools! leave! now!
They leapt to their feet and ran for the door. James turned as they reached the door.
"Are you sure, Monature?" he shouted.
The iron began to burnt. The concrete leapt up in flames. Through it all they could see the swelling darkness looming larger and larger, fire flickering amongst the shadow.
- leave!!!
The darkness began to laugh.
"Monature, no!"
The concrete exploded and threw them out the door. Before he slipped into unconsciousness, James pushed back at the force that seemed ... to hold Monature tied. It gave, unexpectedly.
"Materizon!!!"
And an embracing flame lashed out through the darkness by the posts, binding and twisting the darkness back in upon itself.
James knew then why Materizon had earned his name ...
And then there was only the darkness. And the fire.
When he came to he was lying on a twisted body, weeping redly from charred skin, peeling from many places. He heard breath rasping from it, and he guessed it was Anita. Some people were gathering around, on the other side of the road, and he heard the sirens coming.
As he prepared to curse Monature and everything he had ever had to do with him, he remembered the little piece of paper. Perhaps that might help...
That piece of paper with Monature's face and name scribbled on it in some strange script. The one he had claimed held the rights Monature had to give to mortals who aided him...
"Anita?"
He barely knew her. She had clung to him in their mutual terror, and they had fled together. No one had greater claim on his loyalty now, and Monature's promises covered them both. Monature!!! Lose the one who had trusted him? James couldn't swallow past the tight dryness in his throat. He croaked, tears burning his eyes:
"Anita, don't die! Please!"
He pulled the paper out, looked at it closely.
He laid it on her face. He could see no change, but her breath started coming easier. He touched her arms, her chest, her hips and legs with it. It blended into his skin and became his skin, healing all the burns he hadn't noticed previously.
She blinked her eyes open, and the scars blended back into her skin, her charred skin sloughed off, and she sighed. The sirens sounded in the night, far away in the distance.
"James?"