The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy)

by Traci Harding

  Upon arrival at the appointed meeting place, Lord Devere and I were escorted into the church proper. After much genuflecting and crossing of themselves by our guides—which my lord and I did not participate in—we were led straight to a door in the north aisle of the structure, which granted entry into a courtyard. Within the courtyard we were confronted by a handful of the cardinal’s guards and some dignitaries, who stood outside a small building that hosted several intimate sanctuaries and a baptistry. We were escorted into one of these small sanctuaries to find Cardinal Guarino Antonazzi seated in a throne-like chair, with only his personal bodyguard in attendance.

  ‘Lord and Lady Suffolk,’ he acknowledged as the door was closed behind us. ‘What a surprise it is to see you both safe and well.’

  ‘God’s compassion must be shining on us,’ my husband replied.

  ‘Indeed,’ said his Holiness, seeming slightly vexed by the fact. ‘I have requested this meeting to question your intent regarding your archaeological investigations in Persia.’

  Typical, I thought, the man’s not even the least bit concerned that we might accuse him of attempted murder; all that matters is suppressing the find.

  ‘We are not obliged to answer your concerns,’ my husband pointed out, beating me to the mark.

  ‘Oh, but you are,’ his Holiness insisted, suppressing a smug grin. ‘For although the peril for you in Persia has passed, my Lord Suffolk, I believe your wife is currently being hunted by the Shah for several offences.’

  ‘This is blackmail,’ I said, infuriated by the predictability of the proceedings.

  ‘I like to think of it as cooperation, Lady Suffolk,’ the cardinal replied.

  I inhaled deeply to control my rising temper. After one glance at me, my husband took over the negotiations.

  ‘Whether you silence us this day or not, that site is going to be unearthed sooner or later, and the texts of those tablets will be made available for public scrutiny.’

  ‘You really have no idea what you are dealing with,’ Cardinal Antonazzi cautioned.

  ‘Whether you refer to the source of the tablets, or the church’s attempt to suppress them, I am well aware on both counts,’ my lord corrected.

  ‘I doubt that very much.’ The cardinal seemed altogether too confident.

  ‘I realise that the text is but half-truths,’ my husband persisted, ‘but that is better than no truth at all.’

  ‘And what is the truth, Lord Suffolk?’ his Holiness queried. ‘Would you know the truth if it was staring you in the face?’

  I was becoming increasingly angry with this man, and it wasn’t just that I deplored all that he stood for; there was something about his personal presence that bothered me.

  ‘The truth is staring me in the face,’ Lord Devere said, as if suddenly enlightened. ‘And my understanding of it is vastly different from that which you are putting forward…or at least my truth is far more extensive.’

  ‘There is only one truth, Lord Devere, and that is the truth according to God,’ the cardinal said dryly.

  I focused my third eye upon the cardinal to see what his light-body had to say about him. I was shocked to discover a sparkling golden aura with no sign of any light centres. This man was an abomination, just as Molier had been, for this kind of light-body was the by-product of an ORME addiction! Only in this case, the subtle body hiding within the cardinal was several feet taller than its physical host. I couldn’t make out the details of its appearance, but I was fairly certain it was not human, and yet it did not have the characteristics of a Dracon either. Could he be one of the Nefilim? I was terrified even to consider the possibility, for I knew not the extent of their power and influence.

  ‘God has not penned a definitive work of truth, so far as I am aware,’ Lord Devere was saying. ‘God’s truth is set to paper by men, none of them perfect.’

  The cardinal was not interested in debating matters of faith. ‘I am a busy man, my Lord Suffolk. Do we have an understanding?’

  ‘We do,’ I was quick to reply, for I felt the need to distance us from the presence of this dark being.

  Lord Devere was only momentarily surprised by my reaction; perhaps he had also psychically perceived the truth about this being and had come to the same conclusion to withdraw. And it was clear that I would be safe from persecution by the Shah only so long as we kept our discoveries in Persia a secret. My husband seconded our agreement. ‘We shall keep our observations to ourselves.’

  ‘Very good,’ the cardinal concluded. ‘And you need not worry yourselves about the text in your find being circulated in the future. His Holiness the Pope is currently rewriting the guidelines for the funding bodies behind Europe’s thriving archaeological enterprises.’

  I could not believe the man’s arrogance. ‘Most excavations are funded and controlled by the universities,’ I countered.

  ‘And the most prestigious universities are answerable to whom?’ Cardinal Antonazzi replied.

  It was true: the church controlled the universities, and any scholar who desired to advance in society needed at least to appear to be a devout Catholic. Forty years ago the work of Lord Hereford in the Sinai had been completely banned and discredited in England, and suppressed throughout most of Europe, because it conflicted with the accounts of the Old Testament.

  The cardinal did not question us about Miss Koriche; perhaps as a young woman she was not a threat, for anything she said could be easily dismissed or discredited. But we were surprised when his Holiness made reference to our other companion.

  ‘I was very sorry to hear you misplaced Mr Taylor. He was such a helpful fellow.’

  I wondered how the cardinal could know Mr Taylor was missing. Perhaps it was merely the fact that he had not been in our company when we entered the city. Yet the cardinal did not ask about his current whereabouts.

  ‘I feel sure you will not find him so helpful upon your next meeting,’ my husband said, giving nothing away.

  The cardinal looked amused by the comeback. ‘I feel sure Mr Taylor has learned better than to challenge me.’ And he waved a hand to dismiss us.

  I was very relieved to depart the cardinal’s company for his personal sonic frequency was literally making me sick.

  ‘Are you all right?’ my husband inquired as we exited the church; I feared I looked as ill as I felt.

  ‘That man is not human,’ I said, taking deep breaths to control the fear that had been incited by exposure to a low-grade presence.

  ‘I noticed,’ my lord confirmed. ‘I couldn’t make out its true appearance, but I am guessing it was one of the Nefilim.’

  ‘I second that.’ I looked at my husband with a worried frown. If the enemies of humankind had infiltrated our society and in such major positions of power, how could we hope to steer humanity in the right direction? ‘What do we do?’

  My lord smiled. ‘Well, we never said we wouldn’t document our finds.’

  ‘Do you think he knows something about Taylor’s fate?’ I asked. It was a question I found most troubling.

  ‘For Taylor’s sake, I hope not.’

  Miss Koriche spent twelve hours in conference with the women from her sisterhood. They had food and drink brought to them in the room, which was across the hallway from our own.

  Lord Devere and I were starting to fret that something might be amiss, when we heard Miss Koriche’s three visitors finally departing. We rushed to open our door and witnessed the sisters bowing to Miss Koriche in gratitude; this was not quite the exit we’d been expecting.

  Miss Koriche was absolutely beaming, and my third eye vision confirmed that her three visitors were far more cheerful in comparison to the three sullen, repressed souls who had arrived. I was so relieved that there had been a positive outcome.

  ‘What did you do to them?’ I asked as Miss Koriche invited Lord Devere and myself into her room.

  ‘I told them the truth,’ the young woman informed me with glee, ‘and nothing but the truth. Give me a few years and
I shall restore our ancient doctrine to what it always should have been.’

  ‘Does that mean you intend to stay in Cairo, Ajalae?’ I had hoped she would consider our proposal for her and our grandchild to come and live with us in England.

  Her large brown eyes apologised. ‘This is my home,’ she explained.

  I held up a hand to assure her I understood her reasons; she did not have to justify herself to me. ‘Then we shall stay until the birth,’ I said, and nodded firmly when Miss Koriche shook her head in protest.

  ‘No, I cannot keep you from your family,’ she insisted.

  ‘You are our family too,’ my Lord Devere said, and his sincerity brought tears to the young woman’s eyes. ‘Do you think we are going to miss the birth of our first grandchild?’

  ‘Not on your life,’ I seconded. ‘We can help you find a new living arrangement here.’

  ‘Indeed,’ my husband said. ‘I, for one, shall not be leaving Cairo until I see my daughter-in-law and grandson happily settled in their own home.’

  Miss Koriche appeared overwhelmed; clearly she hadn’t thought that far ahead. ‘I am really not in a financial situation to—’

  ‘Our grandson’s allowance will cover all your expenses.’ Lord Devere’s statement stunned Miss Koriche into speechlessness.

  ‘Any idea on a name yet?’ I asked to fill the silence.

  ‘I have given that some thought.’ The young mother-to-be found her voice and her eyes turned to my husband. ‘I would like to name him Earnest.’

  This was my husband’s given name and the suggestion took him quite by surprise. ‘After me, Ajalae?’ Clearly he was touched by the sentiment.

  She nodded. ‘You are the only man I have ever trusted, Lord Devere.’ Her emotions welled with the confession and tears trickled from her eyes. ‘You promised, many times, that you would see me to safety and you have. I want my son to be just like you.’

  As my lord embraced the emotional young woman, my own tears began to roll. I so empathised with her reasons for the name choice, for during the twenty years we had been married, my dear Devere had saved me in every sense of the word.

  ‘You came to my rescue a few times too,’ Lord Devere told Miss Koriche, not wanting to take all the credit for their survival. These two had obviously formed a very close bond during their ordeal and I was glad of it, for it made Ajalae feel more like family.

  ‘Quite a team,’ she sniffled; then she smiled and released my husband to take hold of both his hands. ‘Even Taylor had his moments,’ she concluded sadly.

  The smiles fell from all our faces, and Miss Koriche drew away from us to take a seat at the small table she had been employing as a desk.

  ‘I feel sure that Mr Taylor did not confront and overcome his lifelong phobia for no good reason,’ I offered, attemping to be of some comfort on the matter, for I sensed that Taylor was also part of the reason Miss Koriche was choosing to stay in Cairo. If our friend had survived the fall, managed to slay the beast and found his way through the outer labyrinths of the inner world, then he would most likely surface in this city, just as we had.

  ‘Taylor is a survivor, to be sure,’ my husband agreed.

  ‘His contribution to the pursuit of truth will bear great fruit, I shall see to that.’ Miss Koriche took up her quill, dipped it in ink and continued with her transcription.

  By the time young Earnest was born, Miss Koriche had transformed the face and mind-set of her sisterhood, written three volumes on soul genetics and painted all twelve of the remaining time codes. She had been determined to get at least this much doctrine recorded before she went into labour, in the event that the birth of her child did not go well for her. My and my lord’s presence was also a reassurance; should the worst happen, young Earnest would be well taken care of.

  It was well that the young mother-to-be had worked so vigilantly, for young Earnest took us all by surprise by deciding to arrive a month early. Miss Koriche was justly distressed for the child, as babies born so prematurely rarely survived. Still, the blessed little soul did not leave us worrying too long: he was born after only a few hours of labour, weighed in at a healthy eight pounds, and was kicking, screaming and functioning perfectly well.

  ‘It is a miracle,’ Miss Koriche told us and burst into tears at the sight of her dark-haired, fairskinned, blue-eyed baby boy.

  Suddenly I sensed there was more amiss with Miss Koriche than just post-labour stress. I looked to my Lord Devere.

  ‘You are exhausted, dear daughter,’ he told her. ‘We shall leave you to rest.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘please do not go. I cannot go through with this now that I know for sure.’

  My lord knew immediately what was on Miss Koriche’s mind; the premature birth had aroused his suspicions. ‘This child is Mr Taylor’s, isn’t it,’ he said.

  You could have knocked me over with a feather when Miss Koriche nodded to confirm my lord’s words.

  ‘He forced himself upon you?’ Lord Devere attempted to ease some of her difficulty.

  Miss Koriche shook her head. ‘At first his attentions were unwelcome, it is true. But I cannot deny that I became attracted to him, despite the fact that he was not my designated target…so I am not entirely blameless. It only happened once, and when I met Levi I cursed my brief impetuous moment with Taylor, for I was truly enamoured of your son. When I discovered I was pregnant, I so wanted the child to be Levi’s, conceived in love and tenderness, not in a wild, irrational moment.’

  I sat beside Ajalae and gave her a shoulder to cry on, whilst my husband relieved us of the crying newborn. ‘I’m going to show off my grandson,’ he told us.

  Miss Koriche raised her tear-swollen eyes to Lord Devere. ‘Did you not understand me?’

  ‘I have legally adopted this child,’ my husband said, allaying her concern. ‘Thus I have a perfect right to call him my grandchild.’

  ‘I do not expect you to honour our financial arrangement,’ Miss Koriche insisted. ‘That is why I confessed my shame. My Lord and Lady Suffolk, you are the best of souls, and now that I know the truth I cannot deceive you into providing—’

  Lord Devere cut in and ended the argument. ‘Taylor, despite his faults, was a dear friend of mine and I will not hear of his family going wanting in the wake of the sacrifice he made for all of us.’

  Indeed, this turn of events shed new light on Taylor’s reckless and heroic act on the cavern bridge, for he had no doubt suspected that he was saving his own child from the clutches of the alien creature. And I was delighted to realise that Levi had not abandoned his child, after all.

  I smiled as my pride in my lad was fully restored. I really should have known better than to doubt Levi’s motives, for clearly he was infinitely wiser than I.

  Lord Devere and I left for home a few weeks later. Miss Koriche promised to send us copies of everything she wrote and painted, and we assured her that we would always appreciate her correspondence.

  We chose the long sea passage that took us via many islands all the way back to France. Upon our arrival in the port of Marseilles, my lord heard word of a band of gypsies that were camped outside the city whose captain was to be wed this very night. Could it be the Choron clan? Had Raineath managed to capture Cingar’s heart? Lord Devere and I could not curtail our curiosity; we hired a carriage and went to investigate.

  I was so glad that we acted upon impulse, for it was indeed the Choron band whom we found frequenting one of their preferred camping sites overlooking the sea. We were warmly welcomed by many old friends—most of all by Cingar, who was astonished and overjoyed to see us alive and well.

  ‘I have been cursing myself every day since I did not follow you into that cave at Mamer,’ he said.

  ‘But you obviously made the right decision,’ Lord Devere pointed out, ‘for we hear you are to be wed this night.’

  Cingar nearly choked, then began to laugh. ‘I am not the one to be wed this night; it is my son, who has been captaining this band in my abse
nce, who is to marry. Surely, you did not think that I would seduce the young woman in my care?’ he finished, sounding both insulted and flattered.

  Poor Raineath, it seemed Cingar was still blissfully unaware of her adoration. Perhaps he would never love again, after all. I knew that if anything were to happen to my dear Devere, I could not imagine ever finding anyone who would suit me quite so well.

  ‘Who is the lucky bride-to-be?’ I asked. ‘Was it an arranged match, like Jessenia and yourself?’

  ‘It is Raineath!’ he announced, as if I should have guessed. ‘The moment she laid eyes on my son and he on her, bam, they were in love. Funny how destiny weaves her will, is it not?’

  This seemed to explain why Chiara had sent Cingar to me in the first place, so that we could go together to rescue his future daughter-in-law from the harem of the Persian Shah. I found it curious, however, that Cingar referred to destiny as a female and I queried him on it.

  ‘Only a female could be as calculating and have the foresight that destiny requires,’ the gypsy explained. ‘Now fate is a man,’ he went on, ‘no planning, just go with the flow and see what tomorrow brings.’

  Both Lord Devere and myself found his reasoning most amusing. Of course, we were both invited to the wedding and were delighted to extend our stay in order to attend. Truly joyous moments had been far and few between during this journey, so a moment to celebrate and to forget all the problems of the inner and outer world was an unexpected gift.

  With the merriment of the wedding behind us, we were heading home to inform Levi’s three adoring siblings that they would never see their dear brother again—news that neither Lord Devere nor I was eager to impart. However, before we returned to family life in England, there was one loose end to tie up from our Persian voyage: our debriefing with Lord Malory.

  It was a dark and inhospitable night, pouring with rain, when we arrived in London. We took a carriage directly to Lord Malory’s private residence; I did not envy our driver’s exposure to the elements. Paying no heed to the unfashionably late hour, Lord Devere and I demanded that the Grand Master see us at once.