The All-Seeing Eye

by Rae Else

  El’s face paled, feeling as if Yia Yia had read her mind. She looked at Talus. She had grown fond of him. She cared about him. If someone tried to harm him, she would intercede, wouldn’t she? Medea had said that she would need the full power and know when to use it. She had to go with her gut instinct. It was telling her that she would use it to defend her friends. Talus was one of them, no matter what “side” he was on.

  Yia Yia and Talus were watching El, waiting for a reply.

  ‘I will protect you, Talus,’ she said.

  ‘Good,’ Yia Yia said. ‘You will remain with us during the Council meeting as is your right as my successor. Afterwards you will stay with Talus until he is once more able to phase safely out of the present.’

  It made sense to ensure that she was there to protect Talus but her heart sank at the prospect of being officially named Yia Yia’s successor.

  ‘Okay,’ El said, trying to reassure herself.

  Using her full power at the right time would bring the freedom that she desired … Medea had better be right.

  Yia Yia’s lips were a thin line as she watched El.

  El added a little belatedly, ‘Thank you.’

  Yia Yia nodded.

  El thought of all her power-hungry relations that would, literally, kill to be in her position and knew that Yia Yia was underwhelmed by her reception of this privilege. But the image of her grandma was still fresh in her mind. El saw her skipping away from Maria’s corpse, her singsong voice announcing: I’m going to tell Yia Yia. This simple acceptance was all El could stomach.

  She wondered how everyone else had faired during her absence. ‘What happened to Eirene in the games?’

  ‘Nothing. I called them off,’ Yia Yia said. ‘There seemed little point in continuing them when the full power was due to come to you.’

  El nodded, not wanting to think too much about the power that flowed through her.

  ‘Plus, I needed Theon to go diving with me yesterday,’ Talus added. ‘He wouldn’t have come if his sister was in the arena.’

  El looked bewildered.

  ‘Talus sensed your power in the entrance to one of the submerged tunnels. He was quick to search all the caverns.’

  El realised she had been standing in the mouth of the cavern, only in a different time.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  Talus nodded briefly and then drained his cup.

  ‘Talus has spent an inordinate amount of time in the present lately,’ Yia Yia said with a smile. ‘You’ll have to forgive him: he’s not used to having to sleep.’

  El couldn’t help smiling as she snuck another look at the bleary-eyed, bed-headed graeae.

  ‘Most people look rested after sleeping. I think you’re doing it wrong.’

  ‘I’m not most people,’ he quipped.

  ‘Well,’ Yia Yia said. ‘You’ll have to sleep on the boat if you need to. We must get going soon.’

  When El didn’t move, Yia Yia added, ‘We’ll be leaving for Athens this afternoon.’

  El stared blankly. ‘But it’s still…’ She calculated from yesterday morning, when they left for Helen Island, ‘five days until the summit.’

  ‘No,’ Yia Yia answered. ‘It’s only three days until the summit, two of which we’ll need for travelling.’

  El blinked, startled by the lost time.

  ‘Now who looks out of their comfort zone?’ Talus said as he stood, stretching. ‘Let’s agree to stick to what we’re good at … no more time travelling for you and I’ll not try this sleep nonsense again.’

  El nodded, her mind racing as she ran off to get packed.

  - Chapter Twenty-Seven -

  Unfocused

  In the soft dawn light, the first sight of Athens emerged. El halted in her Tai Chi routine. The white rock of the Acropolis was instantly recognisable. She had seen pictures of its ancient temples in history books, but now the thought of its ruins chilled her. The chambers belonging to the Arete Council were up there.

  To El’s surprise Alex, Eirene and Luke had been allowed to come with them. Yia Yia deemed Alex’s medical skills an asset and she’d insisted that Eirene come too.

  El had been excited at the prospect of sharing a cabin with Luke, but her worries about the Council had dampened them; she and Luke had done nothing more than kiss while on board. It was only his comforting presence beside her that allowed her to get any sleep.

  She wondered if he regretted sharing a cabin with her: their sleep was fitful at best. She constantly woke him, shaking and gasping from the nightmare she’d escaped. Since the transference with Medea, she’d been plagued by terrible dreams. The closer the summit drew, the worse they became.

  It was frustrating that she couldn’t tell him what was troubling her. She settled for saying that she had dreamt that he, Dan or Alex were hurt. It wouldn’t do to explain that she kept dreaming of using the full power on them. Elaborating was too much of a risk. She had promised that she wouldn’t say anything to anyone about the full power or Medea. Anyone who’d known about her still believed that she was back on Carras Island.

  So much had happened over the last few days that El longed for nothing more than to talk to Luke. A gulf was widening between them. She tried to act normally around him, pretending that everything was okay, but she wasn’t fooling him. She often caught him staring at her, looking worried. She began to feel treacherous as if she’d chosen the enemy over the person she loved most. On the plus side, it was only Luke she had to dodge: Alex was so caught up in his blossoming romance with Eirene that he hardly had time for anyone else.

  For respite, El sought solitude. This was difficult on the small vessel, but by retreating to the top deck to meditate it proved manageable. Often it was only her and Talus there. She took his advice and reduced her caffeine intake, wanting to stay as focused as possible. The spicy chai had become her drink of choice.

  El walked to the railings at the front of the boat as if to confront the ancient city. A shuffle of feet alerted her that someone else was on deck. It was Janos. He leaned on the railings as if to look at the view too. Impossible though: he was still without sight.

  Despite having been at sea with him for two days, El hadn’t got used to his new appearance. He still dressed in pale clothes: a blue shirt and white trousers, but other than that he was different. He no longer had his youth. In the week since his eyes had been taken, he’d aged at least a decade. The suddenness of it was strange. The weight of time had settled heavily on his body, making his neck and shoulders stoop. His skin, which had previously seemed so smooth, was now lined and mottled. His high cheekbones that had always been prominent now gave him a worn look. They seemed a result of the emaciation of age rather than a natural feature.

  ‘Rosy-fingered dawn,’ Janos said.

  He had been asleep on the sofa on the deck below. It must have been the warmth that had woken him. She wondered if he knew where they were. Did he miss his sight?

  ‘Athens is on the horizon,’ El said.

  The sun stroked the tops of the ancient monuments upon the Acropolis. The slopes of the hill were dressed with trees, below which a sea of buildings swept down. Thick smog hung over the city. As the cloud blotted out the light, it seemed as if the ancient monuments were shifting out of existence.

  ‘I didn’t know there’d be so much pollution,’ El said.

  ‘Time has a way of doing that,’ Janos replied, ‘the present devours the past.’

  Despite the smog, El scrutinised the monuments on high. Cream-coloured columns stood elegantly on the rock. Ancient ruins. Places of worship. They’d be up there soon, walking among them, where the Arete Council was veiled. As she thought of the future, the past intruded. The memory of Maria’s icy eyes, devoid of life, flickered through her thoughts. She rubbed her temples, attempting to banish the image and the idea of what she might soon have to do.

  Early morning they approached the Piraeus and docked in a small marina. Despite El’s dread, it was a relief to finally
get off the boat. Like the other times she’d been at sea, she’d suffered from spells of seasickness. At eight o’clock sharp, a pair of stately looking sedans with tinted windows arrived for them. The cars took them to the base of the Acropolis. Despite the early hour, there were groups of tourists awaiting entry to the historic site. The steps and pathways of the hillside began to fill.

  The drivers took their suitcases from the cars and followed them. When their assembly took to the path, they all slipped on the golden snake bracelets that Yia Yia had given them: kerykeion infused tokens. Soon they skirted unseen past the barriers and custodians.

  As they ascended El gazed up at the tips of columns, screened by banks of trees. Past the greenery they continued to climb the slopes, reaching stairs which led up to the Propylaea: the gateway to the Acropolis. El gazed up at the ruined yet majestic columns. She couldn’t believe she was in Athens. When they reached the top and walked beneath the ruins, a white plateau opened up ahead of them. There stood the Parthenon: its golden-hued columns and crumbling pediment glinting in the pale morning.

  Before the temple steps was a roped off area where a man and woman were dusting the space with fine brushes, excavating. Yia Yia paid them no heed and strode past, looking inconvenienced at having to step over the rope. She held up her dress in one hand from the dust. She’d broken from her usual tradition today and was wearing deep blue chiffon. El could definitely trace similarities in her to Helen of Troy, now that she’d met the empousa, and she looked even more striking dressed in the colour of her element.

  Yia Yia’s entourage of El, Laius and Theon were ceremonially outfitted too. Tradition dictated that they dress in the colour symbolising their element.

  Theon wore a gold-coloured suit jacket, a hint of black breaking up the scale pattern that wound its way along the arms and torso. An inlaid kerykeion shifted its colour from yellow to gold. Laius was dressed in green, the jacket’s scales changing as if light played upon them. El’s figure-hugging dress altered between hues of blood red to scarlet. It seemed to her as if the entourage were like a flame shifting around Yia Yia, the blue in its centre.

  The rest of them were casually dressed. They could be tourists, out for a day of exploring the Acropolis. Eirene and Alex looked happy, the unexpected pleasure of being in each other’s company showing in their smiles as they took in their surroundings. Whereas Luke was tense, his expression taut, and his cool, prickling gaze never strayed far from El.

  Soon they all stood on the top step of the Parthenon. Yia Yia removed a vial from a discreet pocket in her gown. Talus solidified and took out a vial of empousa blood, drinking a few drops. The rest of them had imbibed some in the car; he had left it until the last moment. He was vulnerable now. El tried to still her thoughts and keep calm, but there was no pretending: until the empousa blood dissipated from his system, it was up to her to keep him safe.

  Yia Yia poured the vial of blood she held down the nearest column. She ran her forefinger through it, marking a kerykeion. Statues appeared nearby upon huge plinths, rising to support a glass structure beside the Parthenon and a set of stairs, continuing up to a glass walkway.

  Across the bridge, El spied an avenue that continued to climb higher than the Acropolis. Or rather, the Acropolis continued to climb skywards. Order guards stood along the leafy avenue, also dressed in the colour of their element. The brightly-coloured clothes made El think of bunting strung up for a celebration, but their alert posture soon banished the idea.

  ‘The avenue leads up to the amphitheatre.’ Yia Yia pointed, ‘where the Convergence will take place.’

  There were banks of trees and shrubs at the other side of the bridge: gardens that ran all the way up the hillside. Beyond the gnarled trees and green banks, the top of a curved amphitheatre was just visible. High above the heights of the human Acropolis, it was as if it belonged to the gods. Its proportions seemed vast.

  El asked, ‘How many are coming to the Convergence?’

  ‘At least a few thousand Order members will watch the ceremony.’

  Janos’ face was turned in the direction of the amphitheatre as if surveying its proportions too.

  Distractedly, he mused aloud. ‘The Acropolis was once called “aornos petra – the stone over which birds do not fly”, purportedly possessing divine energy that kept anything from climbing above it.’

  El gazed up as if trying to sight a bird. Of course, the divine energy that kept them away was the same that stopped the humans from climbing further up: kerykeion veilings. She peered back, watching the archaeologists working on their section of ruins, oblivious to the arete structures all around them.

  As they crossed the bridge El examined the complex of buildings on the other side. Parts had been built to look like relics so that the nearest statues blended with the ruins. Another temple-like structure climbed proudly into the sky, its floors and walls crafted from the same golden-tinged marble as the Parthenon.

  They proceeded to the front of the building. Laius pushed open one of the double doors and entered. The drivers, who had carried up the suitcases, followed.

  ‘There are chambers for all the four lines on the ground floor,’ Yia Yia said. ‘We’ll wait here. We have another guest coming with us up to the Council.’

  El squinted up at the rest of the building. It had another floor above. She was surprised at how small it was, expecting something more like the London Olympia.

  ‘Get off! I can walk!’ A sharp voice rang out.

  El flinched. She recognised that voice. Laius and another arete manhandled a woman, blindfolded and bound, into the room. Louisa had been apprehended.

  El’s gaze wound over her sharp features, remembering her hateful smile the last time she’d seen her … when she’d killed her grandma. But the image of her as a girl on the beach, crying for her sister, distorted the memory. Yes, Louisa had killed El’s grandma, and she still felt the sting, but she was surprised at how the grief-stricken girl seemed to override her feelings. The truth was Yia Yia had many more crimes to answer for than the captive woman before them.

  El identified the other man escorting Louisa. It was Andreas, Luke’s father. He was dressed in blue. El had forgotten how alike he and Luke were: except for Luke’s fair hair, the man possessed similar chiselled features.

  He bowed. ‘I want to thank you for your favour, Helena, in inviting me to attend as one of your retinue and for bestowing your hospitality on my son.’

  ‘Please, your son has been highly useful. Not to mention,’ her eyes drifted to El, ‘he’s kept my great-great-granddaughter vastly entertained.’

  Andreas bowed again. He merely shook hands with Luke. El recalled what Luke had said about his father, that he would be delighted by an attachment between them due to the tie with Yia Yia.

  ‘Andreas, allow me to introduce Talus.’ Yia Yia announced. Andreas and Talus nodded to one another. ‘And this is Eirene and Alex,’ she added. ‘You know everyone else.’

  He nodded, casting his gaze around at the others.

  ‘Andreas, would you escort Louisa up. Theon, that leather wallet in your bag, give it to El.’ El took an A4 sized folder from him. ‘El, escort Janos and proceed up to the Council. The rest of you are not needed at present and can wait within these chambers.’

  El’s gaze leapt to Luke. She wished that she could stay with him, but the time had come. It was all happening so quickly now that they were here. She gulped and tried to seem calm as she caught his eye. She knew she’d failed as his green eyes swam with a mixture of unanswered questions and concern.

  - Chapter Twenty-Eight -

  The Arete Council

  They climbed the stairs and entered a large vestibule with a double height ceiling, and smooth marble floors and walls. As they continued, El made out the Council chamber beyond: a sprawling, lofty room, constructed from the same gold-tinged marble as the rest of the building. Soaring columns ran around the outer edge of a central circular space, reaching up to support a huge domed
ceiling. Rows of tiered seating, broken up by staircases, stretched back behind the columns, enclosing them.

  Sitting on a raised plinth which arced around a sunken area in the centre of the room, were four ornately carved thrones. Three of them were occupied; the empty throne displayed friezes of rivers, the sea, and all manner of aquatic life. Flaming torches were set between the thrones, flickering and sputtering in the gentle breeze that flowed through the room. The circular pit in the centre was surrounded by a shimmering ring of water which was, in turn, encircled by a ring of rough-hewn boulders. More torches were set at regular intervals around the perimeter. A small set of marble steps led down into the pit where a deep-set triangle was carved, emblazoned with a great eye in the centre: the All-Seeing Eye.

  El took in these things before a melodic voice drew her attention, ringing across the hall, ‘Welcome, Helena!’

  The man had risen from his throne. El could tell from his bright red tunic, shifting between vibrant hues, that he was the head of the fire line. It bore a dragon in orange, flames issuing from its mouth as if the material were catching alight.

  ‘Good to see you, Zhu,’ Yia Yia said as she proceeded to the only unoccupied throne.

  El and the others stopped at the bottom of the plinth. Yia Yia’s attention went to a green-clad man occupying one of the seats, who stood.

  ‘Gregor.’ She nodded respectfully.

  ‘Helena,’ said the ladon softly.

  El assumed that the man in gold, sitting in the throne to the right of Yia Yia, must be Samir Waseem. He didn’t stand. Yia Yia merely nodded in his direction.

  When she took her seat, there was a completeness to the room, despite the empty rows of tiered seating behind.