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Heart's Desire
A "Kendrick" Story
By
Jennifer Brozek
Start from the beginning of the Kendrick Series

"I've done what I can for Sebastian. There may be a cost." Reginald said.

"What cost? I'll pay it. Anything."

"This cost can't be paid by you, Karen. The Gargoyles are children of the City. The cost, if there is one, will have to be paid by them and by me."

Karen frowned. "But, it was my fault. He's my gargoyle. I'm his human. I don't want to push that off on anyone else."

"You don't have a choice. This isn't about you. You asked me to help him. I figured out how. I weighed the cost and I deemed it appropriate. This was my choice."

She was silent for a long time before answering. "Ok. I don't really understand these rules and laws you live by. But, I'm going to trust that you know what you're doing. I still feel guilty but I understand what you're saying."

Reginald laughed. "Karen Wilson, not fighting with me over something? Are you feeling well?"

"To be bluntly honest, I'm feeling very selfish. I want Sebastian back."

"Of course you do. You two are bonded. That's why I'm doing this."

The apartment doorbell startled her out of yesterday's memory. The drawing pad, and the forgotten pencil in her hand, fell to the floor in her jerk of surprise.  She picked both up and put them on the living room table. Obviously, she had not gotten very far with the webcomic she had been drawing. Without her comic's namesake around, her enthusiasm for it had waned. The doorbell rang again just as she reached it. "I'm coming." She muttered and looked out the peephole.

John Corso from Treasures & Trinkets was standing there.  He looked like his usual self - tweed jacket, goatee and glasses. Despite his young age, (he was only a couple years older than her), Karen always thought he dressed like an aging college professor. But, when she asked about the jacket, John quipped, "Indiana Jones has his leather jacket; I have my tweed one. Both do the job they were intended to do - camouflage and protection."

Then, she noticed the small picnic basket in his hands. Mystified, she opened the door. "Hello John."

"I hope you don't mind me coming by."  John said.

"No. Not at all." She ushered him in. "I didn't know you knew where I lived. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thanks. I won't be staying long." He put the small picnic basket on the living room table. "Susan and I were talking about you and we think we have a way to help."

"You were talking about me?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because we're your friends...?" He tilted his head, giving her a curious look.

"You're my friends?"

"Is this a new game where you repeat everything I say? Because, if it is, I can think of much better things to have you repeat."

Karen shook her head. "No. I'm sorry. I'm a little out of sorts right now. Of course, you guys are my friends. You and Susan have a way to help me with what?"

"Sebastian."

They both sat on the couch. "You can help Sebastian?" She could not keep the hope out of her voice.

"Yes. I believe so." John opened up the basket and took out a box of chocolates. "These are for you."

She accepted them. "Ok. What do I do with them?"

He gave her a look and a smile. "You eat them. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Oh." Karen flushed in embarrassment. "Thank you."

"Next, we decided that you need to keep Sebastian with you. He's your gargoyle. He might respond to your presence." He picked up the picnic basket and put it in Karen's lap.

Looking down, she saw Sebastian curled up in the same position in which she had last seen him on the night of the ritual; the night he had braved the gargoyle-killing spell on her and tried to free her from her bonds. And failed. He was so small. It was all she could do to keep herself from bursting into tears. She reached down and stroked his stone head.

"Finally, you give him this." John was holding a small box, six inches by nine inches and an inch deep, out to her. "I am temporarily gifting this to you for as long as you and Sebastian need it."

She took the box, knowing what it was but not which one. "You're giving me one of your Todari tarot cards?"  She knew how valuable these cards were to collectors around the world. Created in the 1800's by Rinaldo Todari, these tarot cards were the only artwork of note he created in his life and it took him thirty-six years to do it. Beyond being phenomenal works of art, each tarot card had mystic properties. It was said that each tarot card bore the likeness of a real person from 19th Century Italy and that each one died within a week of the card's completion. John Corso was one of the foremost collectors of the Todari tarot deck.

She opened the box and was struck, as always, by the vivid colors of the tarot placard. Karen picked this one up and looked at it. The Todari cards were not made of paper. They were made of a thin sheet of wood and were supposedly indestructible.  This card had a man lying full length on a bed with a sword beside him. His dress was that of a nobleman and the sword was gilded with gold. His hands were clasped upon his chest. He looked to be sleeping in great peace. Above him was a stained glass window made of three more swords hanging, point down, over him. The glass of the swords was of a shimmering grey while the colors around the swords were a riot of vibrant colors. It was a noticeable contrast, making the swords look more real than the sleeping man below them.

"This is the Four of Swords." John said. "It's one of the few cards that Rinaldo did that is most like the Rider-Waite set that he based his tarot set on. This card represents a need to rest from strife, to convalesce after an illness, to retreat, regroup and to plot out a new strategy.  The man there is not dead. Only sleeping." He paused. "This card also has the power to heal whomever it is with as long as the card was either found or given to that person... or creature. It's part of the rules of the cards. Todari tarot cards cannot be bought."

"Thank you so much. I don't know what to say. You didn't have to do this. I know how important these cards are to you."

John looked sheepish. "I kinda did. You've helped me.  Also, I know you'll give the card back to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a selfish man, Karen. An obsessed one, too. But you're a friend. I like you. I trust you. I can loan this card to you because I know you'll give it to Sebastian. When Sebastian's well, he'll give it back to you. Then, you'll give it back to me. I know you will. I don't know that Sebastian would give it back to me. So, I can't just give it to him."

She smiled and nodded. "Don't feel bad, John. Don't. I completely understand feeling selfish. I don't know what you did to get this card but once Sebastian is well, I'll give it back to you. I promise."

He visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Karen."

"My pleasure." She looked down at the still stone form of Sebastian. "I hope this works." She picked him up, put the Todari tarot card down and placed Sebastian on top of it. "Sebastian, I give this card to you. May it bring you back to me."

John stood. "I've got to get back to the store. Remember, you want to keep Sebastian close to you. Susan and I think it would be good for him."

"I will. I promise."

***

Sushi-Ya was the type of sushi place that Karen wished she had known about a long time ago. It fit all of the rules to finding good ethnic food - A generic name. It was hard to find. It was hard to get to. The d?r was simple. Only about half the staff spoke English and it was filled to the brim with Asian people enjoying sushi and sashimi. The food was phenomenal.

Also, it was considered to be one of the few safe and truly neutral grounds for Kendrick's supernatural population at large. No one broke Sushi-Ya's neutral ground stance. If they did, they and their entire faction, would be barred from the establishment. Thus, they would be barred from one of the few safe places of doing business, scheduled arbitration or any other meeting between opposing groups.

Apparently, Sushi-Ya had been very busy since the ritual in December.

However, on Reginald's recommendation, Karen gave the place a call to reserve a back room. At first, they had hedged until she gave her name and mentioned that Reginald had recommended the restaurant as a good place for business dinners. There had been a pause, some quick words in what Karen guessed was Japanese, then the reservation was accepted.

Now, she was on her way back to the small private room from the bathroom, discreetly marveling at the people she saw along the way there. She wondered if the Japanese guys in the crazy sunglasses and sharp, retro-looking suits were actually Japanese gangsters or if they were pretending to be gangsters while they lounged around the place, occasionally helping out and talking with the staff.

When she opened the sliding panel door, she saw that Corelli and Susan had not made much headway in their discussion. Karen had agreed to help Corelli try to mend fences. To her, that meant setting up the meetings and being there to arbitrate and be the voice of reason. Susan (and her gargoyles) was first on the list for this. It would help her get ready for the tough cases.

Or so Karen thought.

"What is it you want from the Order, Susan?" Corelli was looking frustrated and hurt.

"For you all to leave Kendrick and to never return?" Susan's arms were folded and her face was implacable.

"That's not fair!" Corelli said. She looked at Karen. "That's not fair. I'm trying to do what's right. How can I do what's right if no one is willing to listen?"

Karen summoned patience for the umpteenth time this evening. "Corelli, you knew this wasn't going to be easy. Your Order was lead by people who did not have Kendrick's best interests at heart. Of course people are going to be suspicious."

"I know! But now I'm part of the First Circle and it is changing! I'm making sure of that if people will just give me a chance."

Karen held up a hand. "It's going to take time. That trust was broken. Though, not by you." She turned to Susan. "Most of the people who made the bad decisions are dead. Corelli is trying to make reparations. I'm not asking you to agree to anything right now. But, I am going to ask you to think about what Corelli is offering. She's trying to make a positive change in the Order and for the rest of Kendrick."

Susan shook her head. "I'm sorry but that seems a little na?. To think you can come from being part of a group that has attacked, magicked, stolen from and murdered members from just about every other supernatural group in Kendrick over the last couple of years and extend an olive branch saying, 'We're all good now,' and expect to be believed? No. Sorry. Not gonna wash. A couple of my gargoyles are dead. Dead. As in not coming back. A couple of them are so hurt they haven't returned from stone form. My own museum has been broken into several times..." Susan shook her head. "Tell me why I should believe you. Tell me why I should trust you because I don't. I can't. Not for the sake of Kendrick, the museum or my gargoyles."

Corelli sighed, "I'm sorry all that happened. I didn't know it was happening. I'm trying my best to make sure it doesn't happen again. I want to go back to the Order able to say, 'Ok, they're gonna give us a chance but we've got to earn it and this is how we do that.'  I don't know how we earn that chance and some trust back. I need help. Karen agreed to help me and look what almost happened her."

"I think she's insane." Susan was about to continue on. Instead she grabbed her head with both hands, emitting a low cry of pain.

"Susan?" Karen was at her side.

"It's Alexander. Something's happened to Alexander!" She looked at Corelli, her eyes hard with fury. "This was a set up! You bitch. You set me up and someone's attacked the museum - again. I can't believe I even agreed to meet with you!"

Corelli looked like someone had slapped her. "No!" She held out empty hands to Susan. "It wasn't me. It wasn't the Order. I swear it!"

"You can't say that until you see." Karen said, helping Susan up. "You cannot blindly accuse."

"Please, it wasn't us. I swear it." Corelli looked desperate. "I swear it. None of the Order is supposed to be out tonight at all. The First Circle ordered them all to stay home."

"Whatever," Susan spat and held her head. She looked at Karen. "I've got to get to the museum. I've got to get to Alexander."

"Ok. I'll take you. We'll see what happened."  Karen gave Corelli a sympathetic look. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Corelli. It'll be ok."  She helped Susan out of the restaurant and drove her to the museum.

***

Karen was exhausted by the time she got home. It was not the Order that attacked the museum. That much was certain. Whatever it was, it was invisible to gargoyle eyes but not to gargoyle ears. Not unless the Order of the Sacred Eye had suddenly developed extraordinary powers and after the failed ritual, that was highly unlikely.

Alexander had heard someone break into the museum storage room but could not see who or what. When he tried to defend his mistress's territory, he had been attacked by multiple opponents and beaten into stone form. Once Susan got to him, she was able to revive him and to cure some of his wounds by taking them onto herself. She now sported a couple of nasty bruises. However, Karen understood Susan's willingness to sacrifice herself for her gargoyle.

Thinking of gargoyles, Karen was very glad she had left Sebastian home tonight. It could have been dangerous for him and for John's Todari card. She went over to the basket on the living room table and looked in. Sebastian was there as he had been the last time she looked. The basket also had a handful of miniature Snickers bars in it, just in case. They were Sebastian's favorite food.

Stretching out on the couch, Karen took Sebastian and the Todari tarot card from the basket and placed both on her. The card rested on her upper chest while Sebastian rested on her tummy. She stroked the unresponsive gargoyle as she spoke. "I don't know where you are or how you're doing but I hope you come back to me soon. I miss you. Please wake up. Please."  She stroked him a few moments longer in silence and closed her eyes. 

Hours later, she woke with a small start, briefly confused. Something was different. It took her a moment to realize what it was. There was a sense of contented purring in the back of her mind; one she had not sensed in months. Trying to keep her hope under control, she reached out and stroked Sebastian who was still on her tummy. Instead of hard stone, her hand encountered warm flesh.

"Sebastian!" Karen scooped him up and looked him in the face. "Sebastian, are you ok?"

The small gargoyle opened a pair of very sleepy looking eyes and blinked at her. 'Sleepy. Hungry.'

"Ok, baby. You can sleep." She took the Todari tarot card from where it fell and put it back in the basket. "Or, if you're hungry, there's Snickers for you."

'Snickers...'

Karen cuddled Sebastian to her chest, petting him over and over as he purred in her mind.

***

Elsewhere...

In a familiar warehouse in the Camden District, a party was going on. Rough looking men and women danced to loud music and drank to celebrate their successful mission. With their great God Anu on their side, there was little they could not do. For most of the Children, all they knew was that an elite force of them had been sent to retrieve a box from the Kendrick Museum of History and Art. They had been confronted by one of the city gargoyles there and had beaten it down.  No easy task. They were all in high spirits.

Reggie and his seconds, Samuel and Mike, stood apart from the crowd of celebrating youths, going through the box. Most of it was trash to them but there was an ancient preserved bull's head that was put above the altar behind the bull's horns and ancient mace.

"Where is it?" Sam asked.

Mike shook his head. "I don't know."

"We'll find it." Reggie returned from admiring his handy work. "Anu has promised."

"Vicki! Get away from that." Mike snapped at the teal-haired teen with goggles. "Go play with the rest."

Reggie raised a hand. "It's ok. That's the stuff we've rejected. It doesn't matter what happens to it. Let her look."

Sam and Mike nodded, knowing better than to argue with Reggie about his younger sister. Mike watched her touch the probably priceless artifacts he wanted to sell later and silently swore to beat the girl within an inch of her life if she broke any of it.

As if reading his mind, Vicki looked directly at Mike, smiled, and knocked one of the earthen jars from the table with a casual flick of her hand.  The jar crashed to the floor, making Sam and Reggie jump and Mike wince.

"You stupid little bitch!" Mike said and started towards her.

Vicki ignored him, "Reggie! Look what I found." She was pointing at a roll of parchment within the shards of earthenware jar. "It looks like a scroll."

Sam grabbed Mike as Reggie shouldered past them both. "Dude, don't let her get to you." Sam cautioned in a low voice.

"What's this, kiddo?" He grabbed her hand before she could pick it up. "Careful. You don't want to get cut."  He shifted aside the pieces of pottery and picked up the scroll.

"Is that what you're looking for?" Vicki craned her head to get a look at it as Reggie carefully spread the scroll out on the altar.

"I think it is, Vic. I think you found it.  Go get your drawing stuff. I want you to make a copy of it." Reggie was looking down at an old map. It was not as old as any of the other stuff they had taken from the box. It could not be more than a hundred or so years old. What it was doing inside a jar from the Babylonian period, no one could say, nor did they care to question. This was what they had been sent to get.

"Ok." Vicki grinned. "X marks the spot."

Reggie nodded. "Indeed it does."

Story by Jennifer Brozek, Copyright 2007
Image by Rory Clark, Stopped Motion Photography, Copyright 2007