Archive of Our Own

To say Raymond Barry was nervous was an understatement. He had spent his entire life training for this day. Now it was here, and he felt trapped. He sighed, smoothing down his shirt and straightening his glasses as he followed his mother into the Victorian State Library via a rear doorway. He’d come this way before when he’d been visiting his grandparents.

It was strange knowing about the little house beneath the library. It was deeper than the catacombs, but not deep enough to impact the Melbourne Metro system. Only a handful of people knew about the home’s existence, and nearly all of them were part of his family. Raymond sometimes wished he wasn’t one of those people. That he could have had a normal life not knowing about the portals.

His mother, Lucille, swiped her key card over the lock, the door popping open. She held it open, looking back at him.

“Don’t dillydally,” she said sternly. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Yes, Mother,” he sighed, stepping past her and into the small staircase that led down into the catacombs.

He led the way through the halls on a well-known trek. He felt a little thrill of excitement, but it was buried beneath the dread. His mother preached to him in his head. Her words about family responsibility and expectations were so well known they haunted him in his sleep.

Raymond waited by the last door. He was half tempted to knock. It was a home, after all, and it was rude to just walk into someone’s house without knocking. His mother didn’t wait, swiping the lock and opening the door. She pushed him in, causing him to stumble at the top of the staircase. Walking down the worn wooden stairs, he had to resist shooting her a glare.

“There you are, my boy,” James Barry said as he turned at the base of the stairs. It was clear that Raymond’s grandfather had been waiting for him. Raymond looked at his watch and saw they were on time to the minute.

“Hello, Grandfather,” Raymond said, extending a hand. James took it and shook it. They’d stopped hugging when Raymond had turned 14. He missed the hugs.

“Your grandmother is just preparing the coffee and snacks,” James said.

James barely acknowledged Lucille, his daughter. They must have been fighting again. He wondered what it was about this time. He had an inkling it was about him. It usually was.

James took Raymond by the arm and led him down the hallway toward the kitchen and dining room. Raymond could hear his grandmother moving around, and when they stepped out of the hallway, he saw her placing a plate of fresh cookies on the dining room table. Store-bought. His grandmother had never been one for baking.

“Hello, handsome,” Claire said as she turned toward them. “Are you ready?”

No, he wasn’t, but he could feel the weight of expectations on him. “Yes,” he lied.

“Mm-hm.” Raymond was sure she could see straight through his lie. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he said. Honestly, he could do with something stronger, but he knew his grandparents didn’t keep alcohol in their home. At least, that’s what they had always told him. He suspected his grandfather had a bottle stashed in his office.

His grandmother headed back over to the kitchen and set out the cups. Again, they ignored his mother. Definitely fighting. He glanced at Lucille and saw the resigned look on her face. He wouldn’t find out what it was about. They kept a lot of secrets from him. Maybe now that he was entering the fold, they might start cluing him in on what was happening.

“How was your 21st?” James asked, dropping to sit in his seat at the dining room table. Always the first seat on the left. He never sat at the head.

“Good,” Raymond said. “I went out with Tanya and Andrew.”

He heard the sound of displeasure his mother made. She had never approved of his friends from university. He doubted she would have approved of anyone. Lucille had her own social circle but no one she called ‘friend’. She believed friends to be a liability. Raymond didn’t share that belief.

“What did you get up to?” James asked.

Raymond glanced at his mother. “Pub crawl.”

James snorted out a laugh. “Good lad.”

“You didn’t get too drunk, I hope,” Claire said as she brought him his coffee and set another down in front of James. “You want to remember your night at least.”

“No, I didn’t get drunk,” Raymond said. “Just a little tipsy. I’m not big on hangovers.”

“I don’t think anyone is,” James said as he picked up his coffee. He blew across the top of it. It was a move Raymond mimicked. “So what are you planning on doing tonight?”

“I’m waiting to see how things go,” Raymond said. His eyes flicked toward the door on the wall of the room. It was a door he had never been through.

“He shouldn’t be too far away,” Claire said. “He’s a stickler for time.”

“That depends if he’s anything like his father,” Lucille said. “He may not be.”

“He was on time when he called in this morning,” James assured her.

Lucille frowned. “He came by this morning?”

“He was double-checking what time Raymond here was coming. Wanted to make sure everything was going ahead.”

“You should have called,” Lucille said. “We would have come early.”

“An appointment is an appointment,” James said. “And there was no reason to come early. Kingston didn’t stay, anyhow. He just checked that everything was ready and went to have lunch.”

Raymond could tell his mother wasn’t buying it. She always got a set to her jaw when she wasn’t happy. He was glad that his grandfather hadn’t called them. It had given Raymond more time to prepare himself mentally.

He glanced up at the clock and saw there were still five minutes until the assigned meeting time. He tried to work out what to expect of Kingston. In his mind, he saw an older man like his grandfather, with greying hair and dressed as if he were still at the turn of the century. He half expected a British accent and a stern note to his voice. As the Protector of the Portals and Keeper, Kingston would not be the sort to mess around.

The Keeper. Raymond bit his lip as he looked over at his grandfather. The whole thing was daunting. He had expected the role of the Keeper of the Keys to go to his mother. Lucille had also expected it to go to her. But three years ago, on his 18th birthday, James had pulled him aside and told him that on Raymond’s 21st, James would retire and hand the role to Raymond.

Lucille, of course, had been furious. Raymond could remember them arguing for hours not only on that night but many nights since. James’ mind had been made up, and he’d started introducing Raymond to the various tasks that came with the role. Raymond didn’t know why his mother had been so upset, given she’d been grooming him since he was little. The whole thing about “family responsibilities”.

Raymond took a drink of his coffee. It was still a little hot, so he sipped it carefully. He could see his mother glaring his way. He ignored her. Claire had a disapproving look on her face, but it was directed at Lucille. Claire had always been the voice of reason in the family. When Raymond needed someone to talk to, he always came to his grandmother. Given that the reason was usually about his mother, she understood him.

“So,” James said, setting his cup back down on the table after taking his drink from it. “Do you remember your role?”

“Keeper of the Keys,” Raymond recited. He paused. “Once we find them.”

“And how do we find them?”

“Code in Redmond Barry’s journals.”

“And what’s the code?”

That was a trick question. “No one knows. It’s my job to break it.”

“And what do you do with that knowledge if you break the code?”

“Keep it to myself.” Raymond felt dread at that thought. Breaking the code was the key, but keeping the knowledge could mean a death sentence. “It’s not to be shared with anyone.”

“Not even me,” James reminded him. “I’ve been trying to break that code for over forty years. Tried my damnedest. All I found was the trick code I showed you.”

Raymond smiled. He loved the little easter egg Redmond had hidden in the journal. It was almost mocking them. Still, he wished Redmond had passed on the knowledge of how to break the code before he died. It would have saved all of them a lot of time.

He looked up at the sound of a knock on the door. Instantly the nerves returned. He swallowed them down as James slid out of his seat and headed for the door. It looked so normal, the door. Raymond knew it was anything but. It sat innocently at the end of the dining room as if it were going to lead to another part of the house. But it didn’t.

James opened the door with a smile. “Welcome, Kingston.”

Raymond took another gulp of his coffee, accidentally scalding his tongue. He shot his cup a glare before looking up at the man who entered the room through the portal. He couldn’t help but do a double-take. It appeared everything he had imagined was wrong.

Kingston wasn’t old. Nor was he greying. He didn’t look a day over 30. His dark hair was combed but still had loose curls and fell above his shoulders. He was tall — easily over Raymond’s own six-foot-one. His eyes were a striking green that made Raymond stare. He was well dressed in dark dress pants and a white shirt fitted to his person and tailored if Raymond had to guess. He worked out from the way the shirt clung to him. If any word had to describe him, it was gorgeous.

Raymond caught himself staring and tore his gaze away to look at his grandfather, his cheeks instantly heating. He pushed all thoughts of attraction down. Chances were Kingston didn’t swing that way, anyway. Raymond swung both ways himself, not that he’d ever let his mother know that. Much to his chagrin, she was fixated on setting him up with every girl she could find. The Barry family required an heir, after all.

Feeling eyes on him, Raymond looked up again and flushed as he found Kingston watching him. He looked away and back to his grandfather. Out the top of his eye, he could see that Kingston wasn’t looking away. Instead, Kingston’s gaze was fixated on him. It made Raymond want to fidget.

“I see you all made it on time,” Kingston said, looking at James. “Like you said.”

“Barry’s are always punctual,” James bragged.

“Most of the time,” Claire corrected.

Raymond couldn’t help the small smile. He knew she was talking about his mother. Lucille had a habit of getting bogged down in work and missing appointments and meetings. Lucille had always thrown herself headfirst into her work. Raymond always set the alarm to remind himself when he needed to be somewhere. It was something he’d learned from James.

“I take it this is Raymond,” Kingston said, stepping past James and further into the room. Raymond had to fight the urge to fidget. Kingston extended his hand. “I’m Kingston.”

“Raymond Barry,” Raymond said, putting his mug into his other hand and standing so he could take Kingston’s hand. Warm hands. Particularly around Kingston’s ring. Raymond half frowned as he felt the heat coming from the ring. That couldn’t be right. Maybe Kingston had just had his own coffee, and the cup had warmed the ring.

“It’s good to meet you finally,” Kingston said. “James told me a lot about you.”

Raymond glanced at his grandfather and saw him smiling, so he knew what he’d said had to be good. Raymond looked back at Kingston as Kingston dropped his hand. “I’m afraid I know little about you. Personally, I mean. I know about your job.”

“As the Protector,” Kingston said. “So you know it’s my job to look after you and protect you and the portals.”

Portals, plural. Raymond had glimpsed the other door, but he’d never seen it up close. His eyes wandered over toward the doorway. “You don’t seem to be in Adelaide enough to do that, though.”

“Raymond,” Lucille hissed.

Kingston didn’t seem fazed by it. “I check in from time to time. Without the keys, there’s nothing to protect. And without the knowledge of where to find them, no one is going to target you.”

“We’ve had a couple of incursions over the years,” James said. “Nothing compared to ‘66.”

When James’ parents were killed. Raymond’s great-grandparents. The Protector had failed to protect them, and they had died in an attack. Raymond knew his great-grandfather had broken the code to finding the keys, which had painted a target on his back. He’d paid the ultimate price, along with his wife and a couple of their friends, while locating a key. Only the Protector had escaped.

Raymond saw Kingston wince at the mention of 1966 and knew it was because that Protector had failed. The Kingston of ‘66 had left soon after, disappearing for years at a time. Raymond hoped this Kingston was better than that one if he broke the code.

“Would you like a coffee?” Claire asked Kingston.

“No need,” he said, eyes moving back to fall on Raymond. “I was hoping to steal Raymond for a while and get to know him.”

Raymond sucked in a breath, his fingers tightening on his cup. Kingston wanted to be alone with him. Most likely in Adelaide, which would mean walking through the portal. Raymond had never gone through it before. He still didn’t understand how the whole thing worked. All he knew was that on this side of the door, you were in Melbourne, but on the other, you were in Adelaide.

“Well?” Lucille said, prodding Raymond in the side.

Yes, he needed to respond. “That sounds fine,” he said.

He handed his coffee cup to his mother and stepped toward Kingston. Kingston gave him a broad smile, turned, and walked back through the doorway. Raymond hesitated when he got to the threshold. He knew people died walking through. Only certain people could use the portal, and supposedly, he was one of them.

“First time?” Kingston asked from the other side.

“Yes,” Raymond said. He let out a long breath and steeled himself.

“Nothing will happen to you,” Kingston reassured him. He held out a hand.

It tempted Raymond to take that hand but he pushed the urge down. With another breath out, he stepped through the doorway. The air changed in temperature and density. He was still underground, but the air felt more circulated on this side. He tried to get his mind around that he’d just travelled hundreds of kilometres in a single step.

“As I said,” Kingston said. “You’re fine.”

“How can you know that?” Raymond asked.

“My ring,” Kingston explained. “If it comes into contact with someone who can use a portal, it heats up.”

“But wouldn’t it heat up on your hand?”

“It doesn’t affect the wearer. It is the reason I shake hands with everyone I meet.”

That explained why his ring had been so warm. “And what if it hadn’t heated? What would that mean for me as a Keeper?”

“As a descendant of Redmond Barry, it was always going to heat for you,” Kingston said. “It’s part of your lineage.”

That still didn’t mean that it was a guarantee as far as Raymond was concerned. He let it drop. Kingston gave him a curious look and pointed toward the second doorway in the little room they stood in.

“That’s the second portal,” he said. “The one for which we require the keys. Right now, it’s just a regular door to a storeroom. But with the right key, it becomes a doorway to wherever that key leads.”

Raymond nodded. His grandfather had given him the spiel about the second portal. Raymond had seen that doorway back at the homestead, but never this close. It looked like a regular old door—an old door with a lock that probably took one of those old-fashioned brass keys. Raymond had never seen a portal key, but it gave him a rough idea of what he was looking for.

“Come,” Kingston said, tapping him on the arm. “Let me give you the tour of the hotel.”

#

The hotel turned out to be the Medina Grand Hotel, in the old Treasury Building in Adelaide. They had renovated it into a reasonably modern building. There were still echoes of its history in the walls, and there was something about the building. Raymond felt that the building had a lot of secrets other than the one in the basement.

Raymond couldn’t help but wonder how Kingston was so familiar with a place he didn’t seem to spend much time in. Kingston was also friendly with the day manager, an older gentleman named Nicholas. Raymond wanted to know what Nicholas knew about the portals but kept his mouth shut. He’d quiz Kingston about it later.

After the tour, Kingston took him out into Adelaide proper. It felt strange coming out into an unfamiliar city. Raymond felt his nerves returning. He didn’t like being in unfamiliar places. It meant that he didn’t know where to run or hide if need be. He’d studied Adelaide on maps and photos online, but nothing truly prepared him for experiencing the real thing.

After a general tour of the area, Kingston led the way to a cafe near the hotel. Raymond found that curious, as the hotel had its own cafe. When asked, Kingston said he considered this cafe neutral ground. Again, something that made Raymond curious. Why did they need to have neutral ground?

The cafe had a special on coffees and muffins, so they each ordered one. They found a table in the back corner that gave them a view of the doorway, but far enough out of the way that they could have a conversation without worrying about anyone listening in. They could see everyone in the shop. Raymond liked that. It made him feel more secure.

They played the general getting-to-know-you routine. Kingston asked Raymond about his schooling. Raymond had been homeschooled until university and told Kingston as much. How he would finish his undergraduate that year and intended to do a postgraduate degree to become an archivist like his mother and grandparents.

He was interested to learn that Kingston himself had little in the way of formal schooling. How he’d also been homeschooled but had a business degree that he’d earned while in Ireland. That was where he had been before travelling back to meet Raymond. That explained the faint accent. Kingston must have been in Ireland some time to pick it up.

Kingston asked him about friends, so Raymond told him about Tanya and Andrew. He’d met them at university. They were high school sweethearts who had taken a shine to him on day one of their course. They’d won him over and brought him into the fold, and now he spent a lot of time with them when he wasn’t studying. It appeared Kingston didn’t have friends, which Raymond found kind of sad. Kingston commented he travelled a lot, so he mostly had acquaintances.

They turned to family, and Raymond learned Kingston had lost his parents long ago. Raymond found that a little odd. He’d have thought Kingston would have visited Melbourne sooner if that were the case if only to introduce himself to James. Kingston dodged the question about that. It was suspicious.

Raymond told Kingston about his absent father. Antonio “Tony” Contiello was touring Europe, giving talks on ancient languages at various universities. He’d been gone for years, although Raymond spoke to him on the phone or via video chat when he got the chance. He hadn’t seen his father in person for a long time. His parents were married, but Raymond considered them separated, even though Lucille would never admit it. If Lucille was married to anyone, it was her work. That had been one of the deciding factors in Raymond’s father living his dream.

“Do you miss him?” Kingston asked.

“I do,” Raymond said. “He didn’t like the secrecy. He hated the idea of me having to become Keeper.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t believe in fate and destiny,” Raymond explained. “He thinks I should have been allowed to choose my own course in life.”

“Do you feel trapped?”

“A little,” Raymond admitted. “I’ve spent my whole life being told I was born to fill a role. And when I turned 18, my grandfather told me I would be Keeper. Not to mention I didn’t exactly pick ‘archivist’ as my dream career path.”

Kingston nodded. “If you could choose, what would you be?”

“Honestly?” Raymond considered it for a while. No one had ever actually asked him what he wanted to be. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Not even with Tanya and Andrew?”

“I mean, we joke sometimes,” Raymond said. “Talk about becoming travel bloggers or food critics. Maybe professional wine tasters.”

“You like wine?”

“I’m more of a beer person, but I like wine occasionally.”

“Do you have a favourite?”

“Not really.” Raymond shrugged. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Neither am I,” Kingston said. “I was never fond of hangovers.”

“Hangovers are the worst,” Raymond agreed.

They ate some more of their muffins and drank some of their coffee. Raymond had to admit that it was excellent coffee and that the muffin tasted fresh. Some cafes would leave their cakes and muffins on display for a week, but this one tasted like they had been baked that morning. He complimented Kingston for his choice of cafe.

Kingston poked at his muffin. “Has your grandfather told you when you’ll officially take the position as Keeper?”

“I think my grandfather intends for it to be soon,” Raymond said. “He’s already introduced me to the journals. He said he couldn’t give me his notes, though. He doesn’t want me tainted with his own work.”

“He wants you to have fresh eyes,” Kingston said. “I believe that’s what most Keepers do.”

“Well, not that any ever survive,” Raymond said. “My grandfather is the first.”

Kingston looked uncomfortable. He eyed Raymond. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“I understand it’s part of the job description,” Raymond said. Honestly, though, he wasn’t entirely on board with it. He didn’t like the idea that this job had a guaranteed chance of death. Every other Keeper before James had been murdered in some form or another. Some were listed as ‘natural causes’, but there had always been a question.

Kingston shook his head. “You can’t simply accept it.”

“I never said I accepted it,” Raymond said. “I have no intention of dying if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You did make it sound that way.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Raymond took another sip from his coffee. “I just know it’s a secret that I must be willing to die for. My family has drilled it into me since I was small that I must be ready to put my life on the line.”

“And you didn’t rebel?”

“I never said that.” Raymond shrugged. “I’ve had my moments. But I’ve come to terms with it.”

“It is my job to make sure it doesn’t happen,” Kingston said with some finality. “I’m to protect you and the portals at all costs.”

“Not that there’s much to protect. Without the keys, anyway.”

“It’s both a blessing and a curse not having the code,” Kingston agreed. “We need the code to find them before they are forever lost, but finding them will place a target on your head.”

Raymond looked at him, an old thought bubbling back to the surface. “Would it really matter if we never find them?”

“It would,” Kingston said. “It would render both of our jobs pointless.”

“Not necessarily a bad thing,” Raymond said. “It would keep us safe.”

“Secondly,” Kingston continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “We need to locate them before someone else does.”

“Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to know.” A serious look washed over Kingston’s face. “There are people out there searching for them. We don’t know who else might know their location. We need to find them and relocate them somewhere safe before they do.”

A fair point. Still, Raymond couldn’t help but wish they could just forget the whole thing. It would free him from family responsibility, and if he ever had children in the future, it would free them as well. He’d always viewed the family responsibility as a curse rather than a gift. Raymond had been pre-destined to this job, tying him to the responsibility. He hated it.

They fell into another comfortable silence, using the time to finish their muffins. Raymond took the chance to do a little people-watching. The residents of Adelaide seemed to be the same as those in Melbourne. Raymond had always thought there would be a cultural difference between the two cities being so far away. Another assumption he’d been wrong about. He needed to stop making them.

“Was your experience stepping through what you thought it would be?” Kingston asked.

“No,” Raymond admitted. “I thought I’d feel something.”

“It’s much like a normal doorway,” Kingston said.

“Yeah, it was.” Raymond picked up his coffee, swirling it around the cup to mix it. “Is it the same as the other one?”

Kingston smiled tightly. “There is only one way to find out.”

Find the keys. There was a weight settling on Raymond’s shoulders again. The whole enterprise was situated around him finding the keys. His grandfather had never done it, and Raymond knew that when he did break the code, he could never record it. He let out a long breath and rotated his shoulders. The weight of the world was on them.

Kingston frowned. “Everything all right?”

“It’s just a lot of expectation, that’s all,” Raymond said. “What if I’m like my grandfather and never find the keys? What then?”

“Then the cycle will continue,” Kingston said matter-of-factually.

Raymond laughed nervously. “You make it sound so simple.”

“I apologise.” Kingston picked up his cup. “I do have faith in you.”

“You only just met me.”

“Let’s just say I have a good feeling about you.”

That didn’t make Raymond feel any better. Now he worried about letting Kingston and the rest of his family down. He also dreaded the idea that his heir, should there ever be one, would be burdened with seeking the keys. He hated the whole thing. Why did Redmond have to be so cryptic? If the keys were meant to be found, he should have made it so they could be.

“You look upset.”

“It’s just a lot to take in,” Raymond admitted.

“I’m sure your grandfather will walk you through things.”

“He will, yes. He said he would.”

“Has he started explaining things to you?”

Raymond nodded. “It’s really just a few formalities now. I mean, I’ve been training for this my whole life.”

Kingston frowned. “Your whole life?”

“Since I was small, my mother has been drilling it into me,” Raymond said.

“That’s not the way to raise a child. Did you have a childhood at all?”

“You mean, did I get to go out and play like the other kids?” Raymond shook his head. “My childhood was all about training. The most I got to experience things was when I went to martial arts training. Even then, I only saw the other children because my mother put me in private lessons.”

“That is… concerning,” Kingston said.

“That’s life.” Raymond shrugged it off. He didn’t want pity. There was nothing that could change what had happened. This was his life now.

“If you don’t want to be Keeper, the option is there to turn it down.”

Could you even do that? Raymond knew that if he did, he’d earn his mother’s wrath and, more worrying, the disappointment of his grandparents. He could never let them down. “No. No, I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure—”

“I’m sure.”

Kingston nodded again, but Raymond could see the doubt on his face. He also saw the pity and hated it. Instead, he changed the subject.

“So, how long have you been in Ireland?”

Kingston regarded him for a moment, and Raymond could see that he’d picked up on the fact that Raymond was done talking about his childhood. Obviously, Kingston wasn’t done. “A while.”

“A few years or…”

“Just a while.”

Not exactly the most forthcoming man Raymond had met, although he hadn’t met many people outside his family. “Business or pleasure?”

“Mostly pleasure,” Kingston answered. “As you might know, my forbears were from Ireland.”

“You mean George,” Raymond said.

Kingston nodded. “You know the family tree.”

“Well, I know mine intimately,” Raymond said. “I’m even named for Redmond. I’m not sure how many generations you are from George. I’m guessing about the same as mine.”

Kingston smiled tightly but didn’t correct him, so Raymond assumed he was correct.

“It’s hard to imagine George and Redmond knowing each other,” Raymond said. “I wonder how many people realise they did.”

“Few,” Kingston said. “Although they were both from County Cork in Ireland.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.”

“You didn’t know Redmond’s ancestry?”

“No, I knew his. It was George’s that I’m not so familiar with.” Raymond swirled his coffee around the cup again. “Redmond’s history is mandatory reading in my family.”

“He was a remarkable man,” Kingston said. “His accomplishments are to be admired.”

“He had his haters,” Raymond pointed out. “There’s a family conspiracy that he was poisoned.”

“They say the same of George,” Kingston said.

“I’m sure it’s no coincidence that they died within a week of each other.”

“Indeed.”

Raymond finished his coffee. He wondered if they would need to order another, but Kingston shook his head and finished his own. Raymond scrambled to his feet when Kingston stood.

“I should show you the preferred entrance to the hotel,” Kingston said. “A rear door accesses it.”

“Sounds like the library,” Raymond said.

Kingston gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”

#

They walked back towards the hotel, Kingston pointing out various landmarks as he went. It became clear to Raymond that Kingston knew a great deal about Adelaide’s history. He almost made it sound like he’d lived it. Raymond thought about the Barry family conspiracy that this Kingston was the same one who’d lived back when James had first become the Keeper. Raymond shook the thought off as ridiculous.

 As they returned to the hotel, Raymond became aware that they had a tail. He was following about 100 metres behind them. Raymond monitored him, noting that he would stop when they stopped. He wasn’t a remarkable man. He probably didn’t break six feet and was plain to look at. The perfect sort of person to be a tail. He blended in well.

Raymond looked for any sign that Kingston knew they were being followed. Kingston seemed caught up in narrating the city’s history and never once sent a look behind them. He hadn’t noticed. That didn’t impress Raymond, given that Kingston was supposed to be the Protector and aware of these things. His grandfather had taught Raymond to monitor his surroundings. There was always the off chance of being followed.

As they neared the hotel, Raymond finally had to say something. “Kingston,” he said, interrupting the man mid-sentence. “We’re being followed.”

Kingston paused. “What?”

“About 100 meters down. Man in the blue shirt.”

He half expected Kingston to turn around and search for the man but was relieved to see him instead look in the reflection of the store windows. “I see him.”

“You didn’t notice?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Raymond huffed in annoyance. “You’re supposed to be the Protector.”

“I’m out of practice,” Kingston admitted. “How long has he been there?”

“I noticed him a little while ago.”

“Since the cafe?”

“Not sure.”

They stepped down the back street to the hotel next to the church. “Shall we see how far he’s willing to go?”

Raymond gave him a look, wondering what he meant. There was an adventitious smile on Kingston’s face. It was clear Kingston wanted the man to follow them. Raymond wondered what that was about but kept his mouth shut. Kingston led them along the back street, Raymond spotting a doorway just ahead. This must be where Kingston was leading.

Sure enough, when they neared the door, Kingston took out a key. Raymond stood back as Kingston unlocked the door, Raymond watching their tail moving up behind them. He must have realised they had made him and was making no attempt to hide the fact he was following them. That made him dangerous.

Raymond followed Kingston into the building, Kingston hustling him toward a stairwell. They headed down the stairs two at a time, Raymond hearing the footsteps behind them and kicking himself for not pulling the door closed behind them. The man was inside the hotel and was hot on their heels. He was quick.

Needing to get to familiar ground, Raymond pushed past Kingston and led the way back toward the portal to Melbourne. He’d almost reached the door when he heard Kingston call out, and spinning, he found Kingston locked in a wrestling match with the stranger. Raymond didn’t hesitate, especially when he saw a weapon in the man’s hand. He closed the distance and brought his fist up fast, catching the man in the face and causing him to stumble back.

He fought the urge to check on Kingston and squared himself off with the stranger. He knew better than to take his eyes off him. The man gathered himself and tightened his switchblade grip. It was a stubby little thing. Easily hidden. Probably spring-loaded. It made Raymond realise he was naked in terms of weapons. He remembered his grandfather once commenting never to go unprepared. He was unprepared.

“What do you want?” Kingston asked the man. “Money?”

“I know who you are,” the man said. “What you do.”

Again Raymond had to fight the urge to look at Kingston. Instead, he focused entirely on the man, trying to judge when he would move next.

“You have us at a disadvantage,” Kingston said. “Are you going to introduce yourself?”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” the man said.

Raymond saw him tense the second before he moved. It was enough warning for Raymond to dodge to the side as the man lunged at him. Two against one. Raymond didn’t know what the man was playing at. He led with the knife, swiping it through the space where Raymond had previously stood. Raymond sent a fist toward his head again, surprised as the man blocked it and kicked at Raymond’s knees.

Raymond had to jump back and saw Kingston stepping in to grab the man. Again, the man dodged it. He was trained. Raymond had hoped they were up against an amateur. Raymond didn’t know what training Kingston had, but from what he could see, Kingston was hesitant in his movements. They couldn’t afford that.

The man again rounded on Raymond, and it was then that Raymond realised he was the primary target. This man had something against the Keeper. He must have been trying to eliminate him before he found the keys. It seemed odd. Raymond tried to read him again, seeing the moment of tenseness before the man took another lunge at him. Raymond dodged and tried to counterstrike, only to be blocked.

Kingston stepped in while he was distracted by Raymond and grabbed the man, who swung around and hit Kingston in the temple. Kingston grabbed at his hand only for the man to snatch it back and land a kick to Kingston’s knees. He crumpled, looking dazed. He was out of the fight for the moment.

The man squared off against Raymond again, and he stood his ground. Had he realised Raymond was the bigger threat of the two? Kingston was proving useless as the Protector. Raymond knew he would have to protect himself and raised his hands at the ready. He called on his martial arts knowledge, knowing this fight was for his life.

He saw the man’s shoulder shift before he swung at Raymond, Raymond stepping to the side. This time he didn’t counter. He stepped back, dodging and trying to wear the man down. He could see the frustration growing on the man’s face. Then the man shifted again, only this time he feinted and came at Raymond with the opposite hand and caught Raymond in the face, knocking his glasses askew.

Raymond quickly fixed his glasses out of habit, but it was enough for the man to land a blow to the solar plexus and wind him. Knocked onto his back foot, Raymond quickly fended off the blows as they came hard and fast. He just dodged the knife as it caught him across the forearm, tearing through his shirt and into his skin. Pain shot from the wound.

The man was gone again, and looking up, Raymond saw Kingston had him. They were wrestling for the knife. Taking the opportunity, Raymond jumped forward and grabbed at the blade. They got the man to drop the knife before he elbowed Kingston in the face and caused him to fall back again.

The man threw himself at Raymond, grabbing him around the middle and wrestling him to the ground. Raymond realised with alarm that he had a second knife. Who the hell carries around two knives?

He fought to keep the man from stabbing down at him. Raymond felt himself being nicked by the blade. It was sharp. The man was dead set on killing him. He struggled to get the man off him, the man pressing his weight down onto him and making it hard to breathe. Things were getting fuzzy.

Raymond’s eyes widened as an arm appeared around the man’s neck and yanked him back. Kingston was back. Raymond scrambled to his feet and watched as Kingston tried to strangle him. Raymond again went for the knife. The man slashed at him, keeping him at bay even as he struggled with Kingston. He stabbed him in the arm, Kingston yelping and letting go.

The man made another lunge at Raymond, who dodged it this time. The man was getting tired, so his tells were getting easier to read. Raymond sidestepped his next attack. Anger was blooming on the man’s face. He stabbed at Raymond. Raymond grabbed him and threw him into the wall.

“Raymond!” Kingston called out. “He can’t use the portal!”

Of course not. The last thing they needed was for him to use it. Then it clicked what Kingston meant. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to use the portal, but that he couldn’t. Kingston must have grabbed him with his hand with the ring. An idea blossomed in Raymond’s head. He rushed the man, catching him off guard and grabbing him.

They wrestled, Raymond steering him down the hallway toward the door to the portal. He saw Kingston had the same idea and rushed ahead to open the first door. Raymond grabbed the hand with the knife, squeezing the wrist hard to make the man drop the blade. With some success, he got him to let it go, the man head-butting him and causing him to stagger back.

Kingston jumped on his back, grabbing the man by the elbows and pulling them back hard. It was enough for Raymond to regain himself, land a few hard punches to the man’s gut, and double him over. He grabbed the man by the hair and shirt, pulling him forward. Kingston maintained his grip on the man as they wrestled him toward the door to Melbourne.

Raymond managed to turn the handle, kicking the door open with his foot. With a hard shove, they pushed the man through the door. Raymond watched as he fell headfirst through the doorway, and almost instantly, he disappeared. A mixture of dust and clothing fell onto the floor on the other side.

Raymond felt shock wash over him. He hadn’t realised that an incompatible person passing through the doorway would be so… final. The man had vaporised. Nothing but grey particles remained of him, mixed in his clothing. Why didn’t clothing disappear as well?

“What the hell?”

#

Raymond heard his mother’s voice and was brought back to the present. He looked up, spotting his family sitting around the dining room table. He fought to regain his breath, fixing his glasses with his less battered hand. Annoyingly, his glasses had been smudged during the fight, which made everything cloudy.

“Goodness me,” Claire said, standing. “Are you all right?”

“Incursion,” James said, rushing out of his chair and toward them.

“We’re fine,” Kingston assured them, pressing a hand over his wound. “Raymond?”

“I’m good,” Raymond assured him. He looked down at his own hands. Raymond would not need stitches. He inspected the cut on his arm. It was superficial. Just bandaging it would be enough. It was Kingston he was worried about.

“You really are out of practice,” Raymond commented.

Kingston smiled and shrugged sheepishly as he panted. Blood was coming from his nose, but it didn’t look broken.

“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Claire said, heading for the bathroom.

“What the hell happened?” Lucille demanded as she approached them.

“We were attacked,” Kingston explained. “He followed us in.”

“And you just led him to the portal?” Lucille asked. “What were you thinking?”

“Unfortunately for him, he could not use it.”

“Clearly.”

Raymond looked back down at the mess on the floor. He felt sick as he realised he had just killed a man. The worst thing was this probably wouldn’t be the last one. He felt dizzy, barely registering as James grabbed him, pulled him over to a chair, and sat him down. Out of habit, he pulled his cleaning cloth from his pocket and removed his glasses to clean them.

“That is certainly one way to deal with the problem,” James said. He looked at Kingston. “I take it you were certain he couldn’t use the portal.”

“Extremely certain,” Kingston confirmed. “I would not have suggested it otherwise.”

“This happened before?” Raymond asked, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

“They’re not the first person to meet such an end,” James confirmed. “We normally don’t push them through the portal. They usually walk through themselves.”

“Was he trying to gain access?” Lucille asked.

“No, he was quite intent on killing us,” Kingston said.

“Which makes no sense,” Raymond said, looking up at him as he put his glasses back on. “Why would he want us dead? Wouldn’t he want the keys?”

“There are those who don’t want us to locate the keys,” Kingston said. “He seems to be one of them.”

“But how did he know we were coming through today?”

“He’s probably been watching,” James said. “He probably saw Kingston was back in town and knew something was happening.”

“Well, that’s disturbing.”

“And not unsurprising,” Kingston said. “Unfortunately, this comes with the role of Keeper and Protector.”

Raymond frowned. “You’re saying I should get used to people following me?”

Kingston and James nodded.

“Oh. Great.”

“Which will be no problem,” Lucille said, giving him a stern look. “You’ve trained for this.”

“I didn’t train to bloody kill a man.”

“Yes, you did.” Lucille crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you think I put you into all that martial arts training?”

“To defend myself,” Raymond said. “Not kill someone.”

James rested a hand on Raymond’s shoulder and squeezed it. Looking up at him, it dawned on Raymond that James may have killed someone in the past. He saw his grandfather in a new light. He wasn’t entirely sure it was good, either. His grandmother returned with the first aid kit. She helped to bandage Kingston’s arm. Meanwhile, Lucille took some supplies to tend to Raymond. He hissed as she pressed on the wound, getting a look of disapproval from her. He gritted his teeth and was intent on showing no more responses.

“Unfortunately, we will never know for sure if he was acting alone,” Kingston said. “His end was rather final.”

“He’s dust,” Raymond said.

“As it is.”

Raymond stared down at the mess on the floor, realising that it could have been him if he hadn’t been compatible with the portal. If Kingston didn’t have his ring, they wouldn’t have known that Raymond wasn’t able to use the portal until he died. Panic washed over him as his chest tightened, and Raymond found it hard to breathe.

“Easy, lad,” James said, stroking his shoulders. “It’s been a big day. Perhaps it would be best for you to go home.”

“That would be best for all of us,” Kingston said, looking down at the mess. “Shall you require help in cleaning?”

“I have a system,” Claire assured him. “It’s rather simple. The complicated thing is destroying the identification with no one noticing.”

Destroying the… holy crap, his grandmother was covering up dead bodies. He’d murdered someone, and his grandmother was going to cover it up like it was nothing. That did little to help Raymond’s anxiety.

“Will you be returning to Ireland?” James asked Kingston.

“Temporarily,” Kingston answered.

James frowned. “How so?”

“I think I might stick around,” Kingston said, smiling at Raymond. “There’s something that interests me.”

Him. Even in the throes of an anxiety attack, Raymond realised Kingston was talking about him. It calmed him a little, Raymond giving Kingston a small smile and getting one in return. The moment was broken when Lucille grabbed Raymond by the arm and pulled on it.

“Let’s go home before you embarrass us further,” she said sternly.

Raymond knew he would get an ear lashing once they returned to their apartment on La Trobe Street. All he could do was nod, standing shakily on his feet. He allowed Lucille to drag him in the staircase's direction. Looking back, he saw Claire already had the dustpan, and James was moving to fold up the clothing. Kingston stood where he had been, watching after him with a smile.