The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy)

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The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy) Page 40

by Traci Harding


  I nod, thanking God that the captain is patient and even-tempered. ‘I understand.’

  ‘If you experience any sort of strange phenomenon while you are on board, do not be alarmed, it is completely normal.’ The captain smiles and closes the cabin door on his way out.

  I do not dwell on his strange words long, but decide to take his advice and lay my weary body down on the cabin bed. I wonder how my sister Lillet is faring. In my heart I know she is safe and strong; she would kill herself before she failed in her duty.

  I should have taken the fall and saved the map! The realisation brings tears of shame to my eyes. I am a coward. I know my tears are worthless self-pity and yet I cannot stop the flow. I cry out my shame and remorse until, exhausted, I drift on the verge of sleep.

  I perceive the world around me being engulfed by waves of blue-green light, the effect of which is quite stunning and beautiful. The light is calming, healing, empowering! I part my eyes a little to discern whether I am imagining the phenomenon, but the effect is so mesmerising I must give in and sleep.

  Lillet! I wake knowing I have just heard my sister’s voice. I am up and at the door before my consciousness returns to my body.

  There is a lot of commotion in the passageway; I hear the voices and laughter of many women. I open the cabin door and step out to see five women standing in a line against the wall further down the passageway, with the captain attempting to direct them.

  ‘Ladies, may I have your attention, please? The suiting room is this way.’ He motions up a flight of stairs to the next deck.

  ‘Do our suits match?’ asks one of the women, who looks remarkably like a young Lady de Saint-Clair.

  ‘That is up to you,’ Sinclair replies, confusing the issue.

  ‘What manner of suits are these exactly, captain?’ inquires a red-headed woman in a flirtatious tone. She is standing closest to the captain and he appears smitten by her long red locks and her porcelain-like skin.

  ‘The adaptable kind,’ he replies. ‘These suits are made by the Anu from an etheric fabric that will mould itself according to your telepathic order.’

  ‘And are you wearing one of those suits right now?’ the siren redhead asks, smiling. She is interrupted by another of the women, a buxom brunette.

  ‘Tell me, captain, can you telepathically direct someone else’s suit to do your bidding?’

  Captain Sinclair appears overwhelmed by the attention and cannot wipe the silly grin off his face. ‘Are the Dragon Queens angels? I do not think so, my ladies.’

  Some of the women protest his opinion; others applaud it. Then the red-headed woman looks over to the doorway where I am standing and sees me watching them.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ she cries in alarm. ‘I have to go.’ And she rushes upstairs without delay.

  My sister emerges from the cluster of women, amazed to see me. ‘Lilitu?’

  ‘Lillet!’ I rush to embrace her, ignoring the displeased look on the captain’s face. ‘You are alive!’ I hug her as I have never hugged her before and she is surprisingly receptive to my outpouring of selfish sentiment.

  ‘Yes, I am alive.’ She strokes my hair affectionately and her eyes and voice fill with tears. ‘And I am so proud of you.’ She kisses my head several times.

  ‘Why?’ I cannot think of anything I have done that would make her proud.

  ‘Ladies, you need to break it up,’ the captain says. He appeals to my sister: ‘It’s not right for you to be meeting out of time like this; anything you say to her could affect the causality of the future dramatically.’

  Lillet seems to understand the captain’s plea and backs away from me, turning to head up the stairs. ‘Goodbye, Lilitu,’ she says sadly. ‘I shall be waiting at the Chateau de Blanchefort when you return.’ It is not like my sister to be so emotional. What has happened to her? Or is this an impostor?

  ‘Where are you going?’ I call after her. ‘Who are these women?’

  Captain Sinclair takes hold of my arm and leads me back to my cabin. ‘I believe I asked you politely to stay in here,’ he says. ‘You must forgive me if I enforce my will.’ He closes the door and locks it behind him.

  I collapse on the bed, confused as to why I must stay isolated from the ship’s other inhabitants, when my sister enjoys free rein and the company of other women. Furthermore, I feel unworthy of my station as a priestess among my people, for not only have I allowed the treasure in my charge to be damaged, I am now entertaining lustful thoughts of Captain Sinclair. When I think of him, I feel butterflies in my chest and stomach. Shame consumes me: my attraction to him completes my failure. As one of the Perfecti I am not permitted to feel personal emotions for another—but how can I not? The captain saved my life today, twice! Perhaps it is just admiration I feel, for he seems to hold the answers to the mystery of the treasure I have sworn to protect. Yet I am also very aware that, as royalty, Captain Sinclair is one of a few select men to whom a priestess of my faith is permitted to bear a child.

  Stop! I am angered by my self-indulgent thoughts, for it is not my duty to my faith that compels me, but the image of a siren redhead who interests the captain far more than I do.

  The cabin door opens and I awake. I sit up as Captain Sinclair enters, appearing far more relaxed than when last I saw him. ‘The crisis is over and all is well with the world,’ he tells me. ‘I apologise if I caused you offence earlier, but I had good reason for alarm, I assure you.’

  I nod to accept his apology, quietly considering that his smile is so charming I would forgive him anything.

  ‘Here.’ He hands me my scroll. ‘Levi repaired the damage.’

  The instant the scroll is placed back into my possession a great weight lifts from my shoulders. ‘Thank you, captain.’ I hand the scroll back to him. ‘I am eternally indebted to you and your crew.’

  Captain Sinclair is clearly confused by my action. ‘Do you not wish to deliver this to safety yourself?’

  I shake my head. ‘It will be safer with you.’

  Captain Sinclair is amused that I think so. ‘Need I remind you that I was the one who dropped the Signet Map into the chasm?’

  ‘To prevent me accidentally killing myself.’

  The captain does not agree. ‘Watch this.’ He places my scroll on the bed and steps away from it. He then holds forth his hand and the scroll launches itself into his grasp. ‘That was all I had to do. I was to blame for the damage, not you.’

  I am too stunned for speech. Then I find my tongue. ‘Why then did you allow the treasure to fall?’

  ‘As I told Levi earlier, I was distracted.’

  ‘By my imminent death,’ I reason, willing to claim responsibility once more.

  ‘No,’ he corrects me gently. ‘It was your intimate proximity that stole my focus.’

  It takes me a moment to process that Captain Sinclair is implying he was distracted by me!

  ‘I realise that your station and your faith do not tolerate personal emotion,’ he continues, ‘and it is not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, but I cannot have you hate yourself for a crime that was not yours.’

  My ego is so uplifted by his confession that I cannot wipe the smile from my face. ‘Then I am still partly to blame for the damage,’ I say, making light of the uncomfortable situation.

  The captain shakes his head slowly, unwilling to let me accept any of the blame. ‘I should have waited for you at the top of the stairs. I should have left the map in your safekeeping. The fault was entirely mine.’

  He offers the scroll back to me and, feeling more confident, I decide that I will personally deliver my treasure to its new home.

  ‘Very good.’ He motions me to the cabin door. ‘This way.’

  ‘Have we arrived at our destination?’ I rise, excited to learn that the end of my quest is imminent. This lifelong burden will soon be lifted from my shoulders.

  We exit the Kleio onto a huge dry dock. Men are suspended from high frames carrying out maintenance on the vessel.
They are strangely clad and speak a foreign language, but look happier about their work than any people I have ever seen.

  The captain nears a set of double doors that open at his approach. I cease gaping at my surrounds and hurry to catch him up. ‘Is my sister still on board?’ I ask, wondering if I will be permitted to see her.

  ‘No. Lillet and her companions disembarked some time ago.’ The captain leads me into a long white corridor with closed doors either side. ‘She will be waiting for you upon your return to the chateau as promised. Still…’ The captain stops to relay his thought to me. ‘I would appreciate it if you did not mention your meeting on my ship to Lillet, or anything else you have seen whilst in my company.’

  ‘I find that request puzzling, captain.’

  ‘Lillet will not remember your meeting,’ he tells me. My confusion must be apparent on my face because he continues: ‘That meeting will take place in her future, but if you tell her of it beforehand it may not happen, as her knowledge of it may affect causality.’

  ‘But it has already happened.’ I frown, perplexed.

  ‘For you, but not for Lillet,’ the captain points out.

  My brain struggles to process this information. How is such a thing possible?

  ‘Who are you, captain…really?’ I ask.

  Captain Sinclair serves me a rather mysterious smile. ‘Follow me,’ he says, and leads me off in the direction of some answers.

  I reserve my questions as we walk along and instead admire the spotless, well-lit corridor and its beautiful honey-coloured polished timber floor. ‘Your base is very beautiful, captain.’

  ‘Thank you, I had a hand in the design,’ the captain replies.

  Turning a corner, we enter a shorter corridor. He steps beneath a sheet of light and the double doors beyond open. As I pass beneath the sheet of light, I am curious to note a gold plaque on the wall. The text appears to be moving, transforming from one language into that of my own.

  This is a Signet station, one of twelve pyramids of light placed on the Earth plane by design.

  Each station is as unique in frequency and purpose as the twelve Masters who are the keys.

  They are the Council of Amenti, who incarnate as the teachers and healers of their timelines to oppose an enemy that transcends time and space.

  The keeper of this station is the soul frequency Polaris, the Master of Time, Space and Realities.

  The battle of good versus evil, light versus darkness, may be viewed here.

  And you will know what you must do.

  I turn to the captain, stunned by what I have read. ‘You are Polaris?’

  ‘Not at present,’ he replies, ‘but we are in contact.’

  He directs my attention into the room beyond the open double doors. My jaw drops as I creep forward into the massive alien dwelling. ‘What is this place?’

  ‘This is Signet station number nine, known to the ancients as Sophia-Hokhmat.’ He strolls in ahead of me to allay my fear. ‘It is known today as Polaris Control Centre.’

  The entire room is rounded, bar the floor, but inset in the centre of the flat polished timber is a huge copper disk. The walls are massive curved windows that look out into a deep chasm that appears to be composed entirely of quartz crystal clusters, both great and small. These draw endless streams of blue lightning from a source above, which I cannot see from the entranceway. Inset into the centre of the ceiling is a sparkling pool of silver water, which holds me absolutely fascinated.

  ‘Amazing, is it not?’ The captain walks into the middle of the copper disk and stares up at the pool. ‘It is liquid-light.’

  I am not brave enough to stand directly beneath the wonder, but I am curious to find out where all the power is being drawn from. I approach the huge windows to cast my sights skyward. ‘Dear God!’ I utter upon seeing the huge celestial pyramid of silver above us, which is shooting lightning down into the chasm surrounding the station. ‘Is that where my treasure is to be hidden?’

  Captain Sinclair moves to one of the many slanted surfaces inside the station, which are covered with lights and other intriguing objects, and begins to fiddle. This results in many strange little sounds and flashing images on a series of light-filled pages that look very much like the map on my scroll. ‘The Polaris pyramid will transfer you to the Solarian station,’ the captain explains. ‘This would have been impossible before today, as without the Signet Map I would never have known the location coordinates of the Solarian station. From there, you will learn what is to become of the Signet Map…or at least, that is what you told me.’

  ‘When?’ I am confused, for I have no idea what he is talking about, let alone a memory of any previous meeting between us.

  ‘In your future,’ the captain says.

  ‘I see.’ I frown, feeling I will have to take his word for that.

  I look up to the blazing structure of light and lightning suspended high overhead. ‘I cannot possibly go up there,’ I say.

  ‘It was frightening to me too once,’ he says, attempting to encourage me. ‘But if I had never taken the risk, this station would still be dormant.’

  I draw a deep breath for strength, but fear forces my head down in defeat once more. ‘Will you not do it?’ I hold out the map, and to my great relief the captain takes it.

  ‘You are afraid that you will not be able to conquer your fear in order to do what must be done, as so many whom you admired in the past have done,’ he says gently.

  Images of my brethren flinging themselves into the fire at the defeat of Montsègur flash into my mind. I retrieve my property from him. ‘Where do I need to go?’

  ‘Just stand right in the centre of that copper disk,’ he tells me, motioning, and I follow his direction, forbidding my mind to entertain any fear. ‘That’s my girl,’ he murmurs as I reach my appointed launch position.

  ‘You appear to have many girls,’ I comment as Captain Sinclair returns to the control panel. ‘And from what I have seen, you prefer redheads.’

  The captain finds this comment frightfully amusing. ‘I will always adore you, no matter what colour, creed or race you are,’ he tells me.

  I am so stunned by his response that I am at a loss for a reply.

  He winks at me. ‘See you when you get back.’

  I look up to see the silver pool above swirling towards me. ‘How do I get back?’ I ask, suddenly panicked.

  ‘You’ll work it out.’

  The sparkling silver liquid cascades over me and I am drawn up into its whirlpool in a blinding, thrilling rush.

  I am aware of being inside the celestial silver pyramid. Wherever I look, the walls of the huge structure become transparent and I can see through to the station and crystal cavern below. I cannot seem to perceive anything inside the pyramid, not even my own form. I feel as if I am a wisp of consciousness suspended in a glistening silver vacuum. There is a very deep sense of Captain Sinclair here: his presence permeates the space and it stirs my blood to feel his spirit seeping through mine. I hear the sound of rushing water and look up to see a porthole of liquid-light erupting overhead. The glistening whirlpool turns from silver to brilliant turquoise as it rushes down to collect me.

  I am propelled further and faster this trip, and deposited on top of a glistening turquoise pool, which I hasten to walk across to reach ground that appears more solid. The structure I have entered has physical presence this time and so do I. The floor and walls are constructed of turquoise and crystal, but unlike the Polaris station, which felt highly energised, this station appears lifeless. I can see beyond the walls of this structure too and I gasp when I spy beneath me the globe depicted in the Signet Map. Clearly this station is in space! Why isn’t the Solarian station on Earth, as the Polaris station is?

  I recall the captain’s words: ‘If I had never taken the risk, this station would still be dormant.’

  The Solarian station is dormant!

  So why didn’t the captain activate this station too?

  I r
ealise that the answer to this question was written on the plaque outside the Polaris control centre: Each station is as unique in frequency and purpose as the twelve Masters who are the keys. Captain Sinclair could only open the station he was attuned to. Perhaps he is the first of the Masters to activate his pyramid, and that grants him access to the other eleven stations even though they might still be dormant?

  Stairs lead up to an altar of solid turquoise that glistens in the light cast from the porthole. It seems the most appropriate place to leave my treasure, so I scale the stairs, my offering in hand. I place the Signet scroll upon the altar stone, and at my touch the huge block of turquoise lights up. Inside the bright transparent block, a swirling mist manifests and forms a face. I recognise the ghostly features of the woman: it is the redhead I saw on the Kleio, only her features are slightly more elongated and angelic.

  ‘Lilitu du Lac, you have done us proud in returning the Signet schematics to Solarian station. It will remain safe with us until such time as we need it.’

  ‘We?’ I question.

  ‘You and I, our key incarnation.’

  Now the captain’s parting comment makes sense to me: ‘I will always adore you, no matter what colour, creed or race you are.’

  I am the redhead! As impossible as it seems, the premise explains so much—why the woman on the Kleio felt compelled to leave upon sighting me, and why the captain wanted to keep me apart from his other female passengers.

  ‘And now you know where the Signet Map must go. Be at peace, dear daughter, until the time of the reckoning is nigh.’ The face of the beautiful being disperses into the glowing mist and a luminous vapour rises up to enfold my treasure and pass it back to me.

  ‘I shall see it done,’ I say.

  ‘Be silent about your charge, for the sake of the plan and the future.’ The light-filled mist evaporates into nothing and the altar falls into darkness once more.

  I feel deeply fulfilled in the wake of this meeting, for with the recognition of myself in the red-headed woman I have gained a great gift: I need fear death no more. I have never felt so at peace or so empowered—nothing would frighten me into hiding in a corner again!

 

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