The Guardians Chronicles

Keira sat in her aunt’s private jet, a glass of mineral water in one hand, a half-eaten finger sandwich on the plate in front of her. Outside the small oval window, wisps of cloud drifted past, revealing brief flashes of the flat, stone-grey ocean as they flew east toward Germany.

Victoria sat opposite, reading through a thick file Simone had handed her as they boarded. The lines between her brows had deepened with every page. Keira didn’t dare interrupt.

A few seats away, her back to them, Simone typed efficiently on a laptop, fingers moving like a metronome.

Eventually Victoria sighed and closed the folder. “I apologise, Keira. I am not good company today.”

“It’s all right, Aunt Vic.” Keira gave a small smile. “You must have a lot to juggle, keeping up with all your businesses.”

“It is not only the businesses,” Victoria said quietly. “There are… many other matters.”

“Is it about the estate?” Keira asked. “I didn’t even know you owned one in Europe. How long have you had it? Does it need a lot of work?”

“It has been in our family for hundreds of years,” Victoria replied.

Keira blinked. “I’m sorry. Hundreds?”

“Yes. And that is perhaps the simplest thing I have to tell you.”

She set the folder aside and folded her hands neatly in her lap.

“If all goes according to plan in the next few days,” she continued, “the estate will soon pass into your care.”

Keira stared at her. “Mine?”

Victoria nodded. Then, seeing the shock in Keira’s eyes, she tried again. “Let me start properly. The Wilde family is old, Keira—far older than you know. Over the centuries our name has changed, our titles have shifted, but the bloodline remained. The estate we are travelling to has been in that bloodline since before Julius Caesar declared himself Emperor of Rome. It has always been cared for by one very specific person in each generation. For recent decades, that person has been me.”

Keira sat back slowly. “And you want the next one to be me. Why? I’ve only just finished school. There must be someone more…just more everything?”

“As usual, you go straight to the heart of things,” Victoria said with a faint smile. “Unfortunately, that is also where matters become difficult.”

“Difficult how?” Keira asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes and no.” Victoria glanced briefly at the folder, then back to Keira. “I have been postponing this conversation, but I no longer have that luxury. I have to tell you something, and I need you to keep an open mind.”

Keira leaned forward, worry sharpening her attention. She had never seen her aunt this unsettled. Victoria was the definition of composed; even her disapproval usually came with a dry quip attached.

Now, she looked almost… hesitant.

Victoria turned her head toward the window, watching clouds for a heartbeat before looking Keira full in the face. “I had hoped to lead you to this gently. We no longer have that time. So I will be blunt.”

She drew in a breath. “I have known what you are capable of since you were very small. Unfortunately, so have some of my enemies. They lost track of you when you stopped using your magick openly all those years ago. But your recent… incident… drew their attention again. To my regret, I fear I have underestimated them.”

“I don’t understand,” Keira said, her voice thinner than she liked.

“You are a magickal being, Keira. A very powerful one.” Victoria’s tone was calm, matter-of-fact. “And you are not alone. Many members of the Wilde family have magickal abilities, myself included. We keep this hidden from the rest of the world for reasons you will soon understand. I am the leader of our magickal line. Beyond that, there is an International Council of Elders. I have been its Chairperson for a very long time.”

Keira opened her mouth, waiting for the laugh, the punchline, something. None came.

Victoria watched her with a steady, almost sorrowful compassion.

“No,” Keira said hoarsely. “I’m not… You can’t just say I’m… that.” Her fingers dug into the dark-blue armrests until her knuckles turned white.

“Keira. Breathe.” Victoria’s voice sharpened. “This is not a story for entertainment. I do not have time to ease you in. This is not a game. We are in the middle of a war.”

The word hit like a physical blow. For a heartbeat the woman across from her seemed like a stranger—her posture too straight, her eyes too deep and old, her presence humming with something contained and immense.

Memories surfaced unbidden: herself as a child, arms flung wide in a woodland clearing, hair whipped by wind that had come because she’d asked. The circle of animals. Nagwa’s weight on her shoulder. And more recently, the alley, the surge of heat, the howling air, the man crumpling at her feet.

“I’m listening,” Keira said at last, forcing her voice not to shake. A part of her desperately wanted to believe that Victoria was playing a cruel joke, or going senile, but the fact that her aunt knew what she could do made her sit back, spine pressed into the seat.

Victoria’s expression softened with approval. “We are the Guardians of the Akasha.”

“There’s a name for it?” Keira asked. “I’m not just… some freak accident?”

“Of course not. Nothing in the universe is an accident. Everything has a name, a function, a place in the pattern.” Victoria’s eyes held hers. “Akasha literally means ‘space.’ That is what we tend. What we protect. Everything that exists—from the smallest atom to the largest star—is connected by it. We see that connection. We feel it. We work with it.”

Keira tried to wrap her mind around that. “What does that even mean?”

“How do you call the wind?” Victoria asked quietly.

Keira hesitated. She didn’t know. She just… did.

“And that is not the only thing you do, is it?” Victoria went on. “You draw energy from your surroundings and use it when you are threatened. It comes as heat in your hands, doesn’t it?”

Keira’s throat closed. “How do you know that?”

“I followed you once, long ago,” Victoria said. “I saw you slip into the woods and call to the small folk. I watched the wind answer you. Your friend the raven—”

“Nagwa,” Keira whispered.

“Ah. Does he still go by that?” Victoria smiled faintly. “Most initiates need years of training before they can touch the elements. You did it alone, as a little girl. You also speak with animals. Powers beyond manipulating space and energy are rare even among the Families, and they manifest differently in each person. We do not yet understand why.”

Keira shut her eyes and concentrated on breathing. In. Out. In.

Words washed over her—family, Council, Guardians—as Victoria began to fill in the missing pieces of her life.

She told Keira about the Wilde line, their magickal branch, their role, their history stretching back through wars and courts and empires.

“Wildes have stood beside barbarian chieftains and kings, empresses and prophets,” Victoria said. “We fled during the witch trials. We marched in the Crusades. Through all of it, the High Priestesses kept records of what we learned and above all, how to protect the Akasha from those who would twist it for their own gain.”

She spoke of the other Families scattered around the world, who monitored their children, looked for that same spark, and sent the gifted ones to the Initiates’ School.

“Each Elder has specific responsibilities,” Victoria explained. “Mine include training initiates with clear magickal potential. They are sent from across the globe to the school at the castle—where we are going now.”

“A school,” Keira repeated. “They get training.”

“Yes,” Victoria said simply.

“How could you?” The words ripped out of Keira before she could stop them. “Why didn’t you tell me? Do you have any idea what it was like? Thinking I was insane or dangerous or both—alone, all the time, trying to smother this thing and pretend I was normal?” Her voice shook, anger and hurt tangling together. “I thought I was a freak. I thought if anyone knew, they’d lock me up. And all this time there were others? There was a school and you said nothing?”

All the old feelings crashed back in a rush. The isolation. The constant pretense. Never speaking of the wind, or Nagwa, or the way she sometimes knew things she shouldn’t.

Keira wiped impatiently at angry tears and her gaze flicked to Simone, still calmly typing a few seats away. She felt suddenly exposed. “She knew too?”

“Yes,” Victoria said.

Understanding struck like a flare. “Marco,” Keira said.

“Yes.”

“Of course he knew,” Keira muttered. “Why not? It seems everyone knows what I am except me.”

“There were times I wanted to walk into that house and take you away,” Victoria said softly. “But how would I have explained that to your parents? If your mother saw you talk to animals and command wind, she would have you committed without hesitation. And the noise it would have made in our world would have placed a target on your back.”

Keira pressed her palms into her thighs and forced herself to think instead of simply feel.

“You said there was an International Council,” she said slowly. “So this is… global. What exactly does the Council do?”

“The Council exists to coordinate the Families’ resources and keep the Akasha safe,” Victoria said.

“Safe from what?”

“Not what,” Victoria corrected. “Who. The world is layered, Keira. Most people see only the surface, their immediate reality. Even when they glimpse something beyond it, they convince themselves they imagined it. They prefer the lie. Their ignorance is their comfort and our protection.”

“But it isn’t the truth,” Keira said.

“No. But for their sake, and ours, we want to keep their version of reality intact.”

“Why?”

“What do you think would happen if the masses understood that the Akasha exists and that time itself can be manipulated?” Victoria asked. “We are powerful, but we are few. They would tear us apart trying to seize what they do not understand. The world would become unrecognisable.”

Keira stared at her. “Time can be manipulated?”

“The knowledge exists,” Victoria said quietly. “There is a record, a book. One of the Guardians’ most sacred tasks is to keep that knowledge out of the wrong hands. That is why we are now facing a war. I simply never imagined it would be one of our own.”

“War,” Keira echoed.

“His name is Daemon,” Victoria said. “He spent years pushing the Council to fund research into the Akasha’s potential for… alteration. He was clever about his wording. Always ‘for the greater good,’ always ‘to correct past injustices.’ But what he wanted was power, the power to rewrite history.”

“That goes against everything you just said,” Keira said. “Who decides what gets changed? Who decides who’s born and who isn’t?”

“Exactly,” Victoria replied. “He wants to be God. And I can assure you, he will not be a merciful one.”

She told Keira how Daemon had manipulated, threatened, and charmed his way into power. How people who opposed him had vanished or suddenly changed their stance overnight.

“Didn’t you go to the police?” Keira asked. “Have him arrested?”

“And tell them what, exactly? We have our own ways of dealing with threats,” Victoria said. “We sent the Draaken.”

“What happened?”

“We miscalculated,” Victoria said, her voice flat. “He struck back at the Draakens’ families. Children. Partners. Parents. He made sure we knew it was him, and that it would continue if we pursued him. We were forced to pull back. We should have eliminated him when we had the chance.”

“Aunt Vic!” Keira stared. The casual way she spoke of killing another human being sent a chill through her.

“That option is gone now,” Victoria said. “He is protected. His followers are numerous and fanatical. They openly threaten to overthrow the Council. He has made it very clear he intends to seize the Book of Knowledge. He will have to take it from my corpse.”

“So this is all about a book,” Keira said, though she knew it wasn’t that simple.

“Wars are never about one thing,” Victoria answered. “But the book is central. Each High Priestess guards it. Each has added her knowledge and experience. It holds everything from rituals and protections to records of Guardians who have held high offices in governments around the world. It is our collective memory.”

“A database,” Keira said.

Victoria huffed a humourless laugh. “If you like. One with no server on earth.”

“And Daemon thinks if he can access it, he can alter time.” Keira rubbed her arms, skin stippled with gooseflesh. “Is it safe?”

“For now.”

“Who is the High Priestess? Where is she?”

Victoria was quiet long enough for Keira to ask, “Aunt Vic?”

“I used to be,” Victoria answered. “That is, however, a story for another time and I ask for your understanding and patience.”

Keira noticed the pain in her aunt’s voice, her drawn expression, and decided not to pry.

“Aunt Vic,” Keira said, her voice low. “Why are we really going to Europe?”

“We are going to the castle,” Victoria said, tone turning brisk. “As I told you. But I have also called a full Council meeting there this Saturday. Members are on their way. At this meeting, I will name you as my immediate successor as Leader of the Wilde family. It is also my wish that you stay for training and, in time, take your place as High Priestess.”

Keira’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Victoria asked.

“You barely know me,” Keira burst out. “You’ve told me all of this in, what, an hour? And now you want me to lead people—fight a war? I don’t even understand half of what you’ve just said. And when I use this… whatever it is… people get hurt.”

“Enough.” Victoria’s voice cracked like a whip.

Keira’s mouth snapped shut.

“We do not have time to circle the same argument,” Victoria said. “You needed the truth. Now you have it. There is one more piece you must understand.”

She drew in a slow breath. “You know the Akasha now. But there is something else, the Void. Where the Akasha is energy and connection, the Void is absence. Unmaking. Antimatter. In the beginning they were one. Creation split them. For a long time, the boundary between them was thin, and those of us with enough power could pass through the Akasha, into the Void, and return.”

Her face went paler. She wiped her hand across it, as if dispelling a memory.

“Some of those travellers were followed back,” she said. “When they returned, they brought… things… with them. Creatures that did not belong here. It took every Guardian alive then to force those beings back into the Void. After that, one of our ancestors—a High Priestess—created a gate between the two realms. The Gatekeeper watches it still. That history is in the Book of Knowledge. If Daemon seizes the book, he could banish enemies into the Void, and invite other things out. He would be unstoppable.”

Keira’s mouth had gone dry. “But that can’t actually be possible.”

Victoria simply looked at her. “The Guardians will make sure it doesn’t happen,” she said. “Possible or not.”

“Aunt Vic,” Keira said softly, “why wasn’t the book destroyed? If it’s that dangerous, why is it still lying around at all?”

“It is not ‘lying around,’” Victoria said crisply. “It is hidden in the most protected place I know. And it holds more than danger, it holds us. Our history. Our mistakes. Our triumphs.”

She sighed. For the first time, she looked her age. “If I had more time, I would give you years of training before asking anything of you. We will have to make do with days. But you will not be alone. The Draaken will be there. They will protect you. And they will help you learn.”

Keira’s thoughts spun, a fast-forward montage of worst-case scenarios. Faces flashed behind her eyes: her parents, Alison, Sammy. Nagwa. The woods. The alley. The old nightmares.

He would change time. How many nights had she wished she’d never been born? That wish suddenly seemed hollow.

“This is too much,” she whispered, shaking her head.

Victoria reached across and took her hand. “The one thing I will regret for the rest of my life is that I didn’t come for you sooner. Please—”

The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Ladies, we’ll be landing in fifteen minutes. Please stow any loose items and fasten seat belts. Thank you.”

Victoria tightened her grip. “There is one more thing you must know before we land. You could not have known, but whenever magick is used, it creates a ripple in the Akasha, a signature. Each Guardian’s is unique. Some of us can recognise individuals by that signature from a great distance.”

“The other night,” she continued, “when you defended yourself, I felt your signature flare to life. Which means Daemon did as well.”

“So he knows who I am,” Keira said.

“He didn’t at first,” Victoria replied. “You haven’t used your power for many years; your signature is relatively new. But the strength of it… You are the only one alive whose raw ability equals his. He would not have missed that.”

Victoria hesitated, then added, “The attack outside Harrods—”

“What?” Keira’s head snapped up.

“Yes. His Watchers tried to take you there. Marco stopped them.”

“Marco was following me?” Keira demanded.

“On my orders,” Victoria said.

Keira let out a disbelieving laugh. “Perfect. A few days ago I was stressing about college applications and hiding what I am from my friends. Now the biggest evil on the planet knows exactly who I am and sees me as a threat. That’s just… fabulous.”

“Don’t sulk, dear,” Victoria said dryly, a ghost of her usual humour surfacing. “We still have time. Not as much as I’d like. But enough.”

The plane touched down with a soft bump on a small private airstrip. It taxied a short distance and stopped in front of a corrugated-iron hangar. Outside, a silver Audi Q7 waited with its doors already open.

Simone slid into the front passenger seat. Keira and Victoria took the back. The driver closed their doors with quiet efficiency and pulled away.

They drove into the forest, a tunnel of dark trunks and shadowed branches. No signposts. No houses. Just trees, standing silent on either side, the only witnesses to their passing.