by D C Young
“Knock it off, Yehenara,” Lanfen snapped. “I know what you’re doing.”
“No, really, when you turn a certain way…” Yehenara continued. “Never mind, it’s just the lighting. I’m sure you’ll be fine when you’re presented before the emperor.”
“I will be more than fine,” Lanfen laughed. “And you’re not going to play that trick on me.”
“Trick? What trick?” Yehenara widened her eyes in mock surprise.
“You’re trying to break my confidence.”
Yehenara placed a hand on her chest in earnest protest. “I would never do such a thing.”
“Yes, you would,” Lanfen laughed and then she whispered. “So would I, but I’m not as masterful at it as you are.”
Lanfen had always been wise to Yehenara’s game and wouldn’t be tricked by her. In fact, she was the only one who regularly called Yehenara out, though not in front of the others, so as not to embarrass her. From the beginning of the five years that they spent as ji-ming, Lanfen had recognized that Yehenara was not only beautiful, well-spoken and gifted in so many ways, but she was also very single-minded and ambitious. Getting in Yehenara’s way, as had been the case with so many others throughout the five years, was not a good idea. Instead of competing with her Lanfen had decided to ally herself with her and ride her coattails into the palace.
Because Lanfen saw through her and stood up to her, Yehenara couldn’t help drawing her in, though she made certain that Lanfen knew that her place was still below her. Content to take that position, Yehenara had opened up to her and put forth the effort to make a true friend.
“It is time!” the call rank out.
Squeals of surprise and excitement went through the group of girls. In a panic, they began to examine themselves, call out to their tiring women for reassurance, work on their best smile and run through the lines, which they’d practiced countless times, for the moment when they spoke to the emperor.
In contrast to the others, Yehenara simply stood and watched them scrambling with quiet confidence. Her seeds had sprouted and borne fruit, she watched the harvest come in with satisfaction. Rather than seek out her tiring woman, the woman came to her nervously checking her over and making whatever, necessary, last-minute adjustments to her clothing and hair.
“You are radiant.” Lu announced. “It will be impossible for the emperor to turn you down.”
Yehenara, sensing that she would be moving on from that particular stage in the process, gave her a patronizing smile. “Impossible,” she repeated. She glanced over her shoulder at Lanfen, winked and then moved into her place in line.
Throughout the five years of ji-ming, the girls had been coached in the finer points of nobility and palace living. As others failed in those pursuits, Yehenara had steadily advanced, only building upon the confidence that she already possessed. As she stepped forward and made her way to present herself to the emperor, being a noble concubine and providing a male heir to the emperor was already a certainty in her mind.
Chapter Eight
Samantha felt as if a ten-ton truck had run over her, then hit reverse and backed up over her too. She tried to open her eyes but she couldn’t quite tell if it was working or not. She saw white in front of her whether she felt she was blinking, opening or closing her eyelids. That was a freaky experience.
Sam looked around her. Everything was white and there was nothing for as far as the eye could see. She couldn’t figure out where she was either. If she was inside a room, there were no walls, ceiling or floor to prove it. Just nothingness.
I kinda always pictured the ‘void’ to be dark and empty, not like one of the scenes in the Matrix where the computer is loading a program.
If she wasn’t so terrified, she would have laughed at her own joke.
Where the hell am I?
She knew better than to start walking or running or panicking. It was becoming increasingly obvious that wherever she was, was actually nowhere. Logically, a place like that couldn’t exist which meant she was somewhere imaginary, somewhere completely mental.
Well, if that’s the case, why is my mind so goddamn empty?
She couldn’t help but chuckle at that one.
After a moment, Sam started to look around again wondering what was happening to her and why she was in that place.
Why has this happened?
What’s the last thing I remember?
Who could have done this to me?
Why would they do this to me?
There were so many questions and they seemed to echo in the void even though no words had actually escaped from her lips.
Sam closed her eyes and started to concentrate.
Come on, you’re the damn detective. Figure this mess out, Sam. What happened?
Suddenly, she remembered flying, and thinking about Archibald Maximus. She remembered the psychic conversation with Allison. The strange interference before she had lost the connection completely. The light that was rapidly approaching her from the horizon.
Dammit! That thing hit me like a ton of bricks! But a ton of bricks wouldn’t have clobbered me the way that did. What was it?
Instinctively, Sam looked around her again. Still, there was nothing to see.
She remembered having thoughts of Max as she had been flying back towards L.A. to go see Julia Agrippina. But what thoughts exactly?
What had we been talking about that day?
Something about the memory seemed important and she struggled to recall it.
What day had that conversation taken place on? Hmmm…
She thought hard trying to remember what they had been talking about, somehow most of what was coming back was the racket the noisy, evil books had been making from the shelves… They always did that. It irritated the bejesus out of Sam. But Max would always quickly shut them up. He knew it unnerved her, especially when they started calling her by name from deep within the reading room, where she knew the darker books were shelved.
“Ssssister,” the voices would whisper, all of them melding into one slithering, slippery, sinister sound.
“Ignore them,” Maximus would tell her, as he continued to concentrate on whatever they were discussing at the time.
“Ssssister... Samantha Moon... come to us.”
The hair on my arms often stood on end when I heard them call to me.
I remember asking Max how they knew my name and who they were.
“Bound spirits,” he had replied once.
“Bound inside the books? By magic.”
“Yes.” He’d replied, with a nod of his head but without even looking up at me. “And that’s where they’ll stay while they wait for someone to release them.”
I’d shivered that time from the chills down my spine. I never shivered, but the books were way to eerie not to cause me to.
“They sound... evil.”
“Oh, they are,” Max had said simply. “And don’t ask me ‘How evil?’ either.”
Oh, yeah!
It all suddenly came back to her and it was as if Sam’s mind had been clouded in a thick fog and a gust of wind had come in and cleared it all away.
They had been jabbing back and forth at each other with song lyrics.
“You don’t look a day over fast cars and freedom.”
Max had smiled at the country song reference. “You’re not entirely wrong in that statement, Sam. Compared to some of the spirits that inhabit the host bodies of your friends in that Hollywood Hills mansion, we are merely freshmen.”
Rascal Flatts… and, ummm… The Verve, or was it The Verve Pipe? She could never remember which was which. She knew that both bands sang moody music and one was from America while the other was British… but whatever!
Sam remembered wondering about her friend’s whereabouts. More importantly, his strange absence from the library had become prolonged and Samantha was beginning to get worried.
“Never mind any of that, Sam,” she heard Max’s sage voice whisper to her. “There was
more in that conversation. The information you need was all said in that space of time. Remember it and then… use it!”
Sam furrowed her brow and closed her eyes. Of course, everything was still white but she concentrated on everything that had happened that day in the reading room.
“Your mother and others like her, they sought a shortcut to immortality?”
“They all took shortcuts, Sam. They sought immortality quickly, without the necessary work.”
“And you put in the necessary work?”
“I did. Myself and other alchemists.”
“Other alchemists?”
“Yes, there are a few others out there like me. The cheats they took were very dark and wicked ones. They hurt themselves in the process and a lot of people, too.”
“You, too?”
“Yes, Sam. I was a witness to many horrible acts and that had a lot to do with why I sought out another purpose for myself.”
“You wanted to stop her.”
“I needed to stop them but I needed help to be successful at that.”
“Hermes?” I said.
“Yes, Sam. The greatest of us all.”
“So, what exactly did Hermes do?”
“He removed them, Sam.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, but as you can imagine, it wasn’t easy. Battles and wars raged, often fought outside of history books. My mother and others like her who had mastered the dark arts put up an incredible battle. Good people lost their lives in the effort, but so did many of the dark masters. And in the end...”
“Good triumphed over evil?”
“In a sense of it, yes.”
“And how long did the wars last?”
“They went on for perhaps a half century.”
At that point, Sam had looked her friend deep in the eyes and sighed. Archibald Maximus; immortal, alchemist, gatekeeper, librarian, friend. The man had been boggling her mind and he’d known it too. In his eyes, Sam could see that he hated having to do it but it was an inevitable bridge that they both had to cross. She took a deep breath and braced for the rest of the conversation they’d had to come flooding into her mind.
“Sam! Sam! Where are you, Samantha Moon?”
The voice that came through the whiteness that surrounded her was as clear as a bell and she had no trouble recognizing it.
“Max? Is that you?”
“You’re in danger, Sam. I can’t believe I let this happen to you. They tricked me too, Sam, and I was too blind to see what was really going on.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked as the scanned the void in vain, trying to locate where Max’s voice was coming from. She looked up and through a tiny hole that seemed to be miles above her head she could see Max peering through at her. He waved solemnly and Sam waved back.
“You’ve been kidnapped and placed under a powerful spell. Even now as I’m trying to talk to you, to find you… there are strong wards cast so no one can reach out to you. You’re being held captive by a coven of witches who have trapped your consciousness within the confines of your own mind. Don’t be scared, Sam. Just use that knowledge as best you can and stay as lucid as possible. Don’t fight them or their magic; we’re coming for you, my girl.”
As quickly as he had come, he was gone!
Chapter Nine
August 1861.
Chengde Mountain Resort, Rehe Province, China.
“The others should be here at any moment,” Hsi-An announced as she entered the quiet chamber where Tzu-Hsi sat alone.
“What further news do we have of the emperor’s condition?” Tzu-Hsi asked.
“The physicians are simply waiting,” Hsi-An replied. “Nothing has changed, really, they don’t expect him to live through the night. Preparations are already being made to present Tung Chih as his heir.”
Tung Chih, being the first-born, male son that Tzu-Hsi had provided to the emperor, was only five-years-old and much too young to rule. In effect, as Empress Dowager, Tzu-Hsi would rule through him. Having already anticipated that eventuality, Tzu-Hsi had begun to work at consolidating her power. It wasn’t difficult for her. From the moment that she had been named as a noble concubine to the emperor, which came with the changing of her name from Yehenara to Tzu-Hsi, she had begun to ascertain and endear herself to those who held influence over when and how things got done within the administration of the emperor’s rule.
Hsi-An, whose name had been Lanfen, had advanced, just as she’d planned, upon Tzu-Hsi’s coat tails and had quietly gone about helping to bring those of influence into Tzu-Hsi’s camp, knowing that if Tzu-Hsi’s position was consolidated, hers would be as well.
Upon the death of the emperor, eight noble regents would rule until the Tung Chih was of age to take his position as the head of the Qing dynasty. Tzu-Hsi, being his mother, would be best able to shape how that would take place and how Tung Chih would act once he was in that ruling position.
The guests, having been invited to join her, under the pretext of awaiting the inevitable announcement that Emperor Hsien Feng had died, began to arrive individually and in small clusters. Tzu-Hsi, quite adept at saying and doing the right thing, greeted each of them warmly, dabbing at her eyes with a silk cloth as she did so.
“Whatever shall we do when poor Tung Chih becomes the emperor?” she repeated more than once.
“I’m certain that you will raise the child to be the finest emperor our history has ever known,” she was assured numerous times. “We’ll all be here to help, of course. There’s no point placing that entire burden upon your shoulders alone.”
With false humility, Tzu-Hsi accepted their kind words and denied that she would be able to prepare the boy properly without all of them. Just as she’d done as an adolescent, she began to manipulate each of them into backing her.
Once each of the guests had been greeted, Tzu-Hsi began to work the room, making certain that all had something to eat, drink or to bring them comfort. In the process, she asked each of them, privately to begin taking on a particular administrative role, knowing exactly who would work best in each position and be delighted to take on that duty.
While each thought only of their own area of influence, Tzu-Hsi saw the whole picture, never once, openly suggesting that she would be in any position over any of them.
“Everyone seems to be agreeable to their new roles,” Hsi-An said in a low tone when the two of them found themselves alone together for a brief moment. “You’re certainly consolidating your position.”
“Consolidating my position?” Tzu-Hsi asked, placing a hand upon her chest and widening her eyes in mock surprise. “I would never do such a thing.”
“You haven’t changed,” Hsi-An, replied, holding back a laugh in that solemn moment. Hsi-An had been content with remaining on the coattails of Tzu-Hsi, knowing that from that position, she would certainly be able to exercise a great deal of influence herself. “I do need to tell you that Hsi Juan is not as eager as we might have expected her to be. You also notice that she’s working her way around the room.”
Tzu-Hsi hadn’t missed it, but she was grateful for the information that Hsi-An provided her. “Why don’t you go keep her busy for a while? Get her started talking about the last theatrical performance, she won’t shut up about that for hours,” Tzu-Hsi directed.
With Hsi Juan occupied, Tzu-Hsi began working the room again, recalling which persons Hsi Juan had most recently been speaking to and reiterating how desperately Tung Chih would need their help if he was to have any kingdom left to rule by the time he was old enough to accept the responsibility.
She had worked through the room nearly half-way, when a pale faced messenger with a grave expression entered the chamber and asked for her. Dabbing at her eyes and even heaving softly, so that all could see her deep sorrow, she held the entire room in rapt silence as they watched the exchange between her and the messenger. With a bow, the messenger hurried away and Tzu-Hsi turned to the quiet room.
“It is
my unpleasant task to announce that Emperor Hsien Feng is no longer among the living,” she choked out. Everyone in the room strained to hear her words as she spoke only slightly above a whisper and then broke into sobbing, though a sense of relief that she was finally coming into her own lay beneath it all.
Chapter Ten
Allison roamed through a dark place which she recognized as a mental cosmos… but whose mental cosmos it was, she couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t hers that was certain. Her mental space had a rosy color similar to her aura. To think the darkness she was muddling through might be a reflection of someone’s aura was disturbing, to say the least.
She came upon a withered old oak tree and decided it was a good enough place to use as a mental anchor for her own consciousness. Sitting under the tree, Allison began to scan the darkness that surrounded her. She sent out psychic tendrils to scour the cosmos and hopefully locate its owner. It wasn’t long before she understood where she was and the reason why there was so much gloom in that place.
Her head was thrown back as she entered a trance, her eyes rolled back in her head. At first, she could only hear them and then slowly the obscurity cleared and she could see them all.
The dark place was the group consciousness of a coven of witches… a perfect coven too. They were the precise number of thirteen with one, very old, high witch leading them. Allison could tell that they were all witches of the blood too; their powers had passed from woman to woman in their family trees for centuries. Thirteen holders of latent, and very potent magic.
This could be so fucking dangerous, I can’t even describe it, she thought
One by one, Allison gently probed the mind of the witches. Starting with the youngest, knowing full well that she would be the easiest to spy on.
Tabitha Hartfield. She was a herbalist and wanted to learn potion making. All the other girls thought she was a boring little nerd and she felt disappointed with the coven for it. She’d thought when she joined that maybe she had found a place she would fit in. But soon, she had realized that the lycée was just going to be more of the same.