“Yeah, right,” I muttered, completing the agility sigil and starting on stamina. “I'm sure everyone would want a set of bright blue sigils.”
Epi held out his arms when I'd finished with Nick and I grimaced. “Epi, do you really think you need sigils?” I questioned gently, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “You've never had them before.”
“I have indeed, Charlotte.” He pointed to the wing on his shoulder, so similar to my own birthmark, but defiantly black even after centuries. “Now get on with it, child. We're burning daylight.”
“Excuse me?” The old man never spoke in modernisms and I stared at him in astonishment.
“It's one of Conal's expressions,” Nick explained with a grin. “Epi likes to think he's cool.”
I drew the sigils for agility, endurance and strength on Epi's arm and he admired the marks cheerfully. “I really don't understand why you young bucks complain so much,” he goaded the others. “It doesn't hurt that much.”
“Only because you're so old,” Conal grumbled sourly. “Half your body died years ago and you just haven't noticed.” His mood was erratic this morning, which I put down to Lucas and I being back together. It hurt my heart to know he was unhappy, but I hoped with time he would come to terms with the changes in our relationship.
Ben stood before me, his t-shirt discarded in readiness and I worked on his muscled bicep, biting my lip when I saw him wince more than once. “I'm so sorry, Ben.”
“Don't apologize, Charlotte. You're only doing what you need to do,” Ben reassured me, pulling his shirt back on when I'd finished.
Lucas obligingly pulled his t-shirt off, gripping it one hand and holding his other arm out towards me. I shook my head minutely, remembering his kisses last night and a flutter of desire tingled low in my body as I gazed at his naked chest. I caught his wrist in my hand and began to draw an agility sigil high on his shoulder, concentrating hard on his arm so I wouldn't see the pain in his eyes.
“Why do you always do that, my love?” he whispered against my ear.
“What?”
“When you see my chest – you always suck in a little breath,” he murmured. “It's very endearing.”
I met his eyes and saw the desire I felt mirrored. “Could it be because you're absolutely perfect in every way,” I whispered back. “And I think you're incredibly, gloriously sexy.”
“Nearly finished?” Conal growled.
Lucas allowed himself a tiny smug smile and I turned back to his arm, working swiftly to complete the sigils. I hated doing this to them, loathed the acrid smell of burning flesh when the Hjördis burnt the sigils onto their skin. Lucas stood patiently as I completed the marks, muscles clenching tightly in his arm. When I finished he flexed his arm before slipping his t-shirt on.
“Okay, let's do this,” Lucas announced.
I knelt to create a pentagram on the flattened grass, calling on the spirits for assistance. I recalled the image of our destination from my memory and waited patiently whilst the sigils appeared in my mind, one after the other. As I'd suspected, not one of them were ones I'd used before and I turned back to the pentagram, marking the five corners. When I'd completed the fifth sigil, I got to my feet and watched as it glowed and brilliant shafts of pure white light erupted from the circular centre.
“Well, that's different,” Nick remarked quietly. “What happened to the gold light?”
“It doesn't matter,” Epi rebuked. “What matters is whether it takes us to Zaen.”
I tucked the Hjördis into my pocket and was about to step through the portal when Lucas caught my arm in a vice-like grip. “Conal and I will go first, Charlotte. We don't know what's through there and the differences in the portal are enough to concern me.”
The two men stepped through the portal together and disappeared. Nick followed a second later, throwing me a wink before Ben strode through after him.
“Ready to go, child?' Epi asked, picking up his rucksack and throwing it onto his stooped shoulder.
The old man and I walked into the shimmering white light together. This portal was different, the shimmering patterns of light surrounding us during the journey brighter, more psychedelic in their nature and the intensity was blinding. As we stepped out at the other end I was violently ill and fell to the ground, retching onto the dirt. Lucas held my hair back from my face and rubbed my back tenderly as I emptied my stomach. Wiping my hand over my mouth shakily, I was grateful when Conal handed me a water bottle. “Portal travel isn't good for you, Sugar.”
“I definitely prefer cars,” I agreed mildly. Wiping a clammy hand over my face, I sat on the ground and sipped the water until the nausea subsided. When I felt a little better, Lucas helped me onto my feet.
“Looks like we're out of luck, Sugar,” Conal remarked.
I blinked and shook my head, unable to understand why he was suggesting we were out of luck when just fifteen feet away was the massive wall of Zaen? It was shining in the early morning sunlight, sheer granite walls more than thirty feet tall circled off into the distance. Gold and green grasses swayed gently and grew to the very edges of the wall, providing a bright color contrast against the glistening white stone. To our right, a colossal wooden gate was inset into the rock, bound together with thick bands of iron, it curved upwards into an arched point. Over the top of the doorway, writing was carved into the granite and sigils appeared in neat rows down either side of the gate.
“We might as well portal back,” Nick announced in disgust.
“Charlotte?” Ben placed a hand on my shoulder, the gesture meant to be soothing. “I know you must be disappointed.”
I shrugged his hand away and took a few steps towards Zaen, turning back to look at them in frustration. I knew my eyes were filled with a combination of excitement and confusion. “It's here!” I waved my hand towards the massive structure. What I'd seen in my visions - it was exactly what I could see only feet away from where we currently stood. There was a stone pathway leading from the gates and it disappeared in the far distance. On either side of the path, a flat plain of land spread for miles, covered in the green and gold grass which swayed in the gentle breeze. I could see the path led to a thicket of ancient forest, spreading across the horizon, a dark green blur of trees which rose towards the blue sky overhead.
“Sugar, there's nothing here,” Conal insisted. His dark eyes filled with concern, as if he truly believed I was hallucinating.
“Lucas, surely you can see this,” I pleaded. “Zaen – it's right there!”
Lucas focused where I was pointing, but it was clear from the look on his face that he couldn't see a thing. It was the same with Epi, Nick and Ben – they were all staring at me as if I was mad. I inhaled deeply, aggravated that we'd reached what I was certain would be a safe haven – but only I could see it. In frustration I picked up a stone, took aim and threw it towards the sparkling white granite.
The rock spun towards the wall and a curious thing happened. In the split second when it hit the granite, a flash of white light erupted from the wall, brighter than a stroke of lightning.
The rock ricocheted back towards our group, Nick ducking for cover as it sped past him, narrowly missing his head.
“Okay. That was kind of weird,” Conal remarked slowly. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stared at where the stone had hit the wall.
“It appears Charlotte is correct,” Epi announced. “Zaen is there. However, only she can see it.”
“Gee, thanks for the rousing endorsement,” I responded in tone leaning heavily towards sarcasm.
“Angel blood,” Ben announced. “She can see it because of her blood.”
“And we cannot, because we have demon blood within us,” Epi added. “Yes, that must be it!” He turned to Nick. “Shape shifters are an anomaly, contrary to the normal workings of the supernatural. You cannot see it?”
“An anomaly, huh?” Nick turned in the direction the rock had bounced from and stared intensely for a minute. “Nope, can't see a t
hing.”
“Concentrate, Nick,” I urged. “Try and think beyond what you believe to be true and try and visualize what you think should be there. Look for a wall.”
Nick stared at the space again, narrowing his eyes. “Okay. I can see… sort of… glimpses of something. Like it's appearing and disappearing behind a thick fog.” He turned to Conal and Lucas. “It's there. Lott's right.”
“Of course I'm right,” I grumbled, walking towards the gate with the intention of trying to get in. Running my fingers across the white stone, it was almost perfectly smooth with no signs of visible tool marks. Each massive block met the next in near-perfect accuracy. There was nothing to suggest the wall wasn't created from one immense piece of solid stone and I ran my fingertips across the sigils, trying to discover a way inside.
“It's not going to be much use if we can't see it,” Conal said, watching as I ran my fingers across the invisible-to-him wall. “And it's certainly useless if we can't get in.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled.
“Describe what you can see, Charlotte,” Lucas urged.
I told them about the walls, how tall they were and the heavy wooden gates which stood to my right as I continued to study the sigils. “There's writing over the top of the gates. I think it's foreign, I can't understand it.”
“Try to pronounce it and I might be able to translate,” Epi suggested. He'd sat cross-legged on the ground a few feet from the gate and was digging through the rucksack, pulling out books and laying them in a neat semi-circle around his legs.
“Permissum totus question templum ostendo suum famulatus ut Nememiah pro ingressus,” I stumbled over the words, struggling with the pronunciation.
“You won't need the books, Epi,” Lucas announced with certainty. “It's Latin. It says 'Let all seeking sanctuary show their allegiance to Nememiah before entering.' ”
I stared at him, one eyebrow arched questioningly. “You understand Latin?”
Lucas glanced down at me and smiled. “You can learn a lot of languages in one hundred and fifty years.”
“Looks like we've come to the right place, Lott,” Nick agreed. He was hovering beside Epi, his lean body a bundle of nervous energy. “How're we going to get inside?”
I frowned, running my hands over the sigils on either side of the wall again. I stepped backwards to study both sides of the gate, trying to find something – anything which would give me a clue. With a little distance, I realized one sigil was missing on the right side of the gate. I stepped forward, studying the blank stone carefully, searching for any kind of clue as to why this one part of the stone was devoid of a marking. I placed my palm flat against the stone where I thought the sigil should have been. A flash of light traced around my outstretched hand and the stone trembled beneath my skin before white light blinded me.
Chapter 18: Nememiah Revealed
Opening my eyes, I blinked uncertainly in the stark whiteness surrounding me. The ground was cold and hard and I struggled upright, perturbed to discover I'd been lying on a stone floor. Where was I? My head was throbbing and nausea churned in my stomach. One second I'd been standing outside the gates of Zaen but when I'd put my hand against the stone wall… well, whatever had happened it seemed I'd been transported here. Wherever here might be. I contemplated the surroundings cautiously but there was nothing to see, no deviation from white. Overhead, all around was the same monotonous whiteness. There was no sound, only the noise of my erratic breathing to alleviate the profound and disorientating nothingness.
“Why do you seek entrance to Zaen?”
My breath caught in my throat and I jerked onto my feet, instinctively reaching for the Katchet.
“You do not need weapons here, child.” The voice echoed around the expanse and was serene. The timbre of the decidedly male tone was soothing to my ears and I relaxed incrementally until I realized what was happening and tensed up again, wary of the voice's owner despite how nonviolent he might sound.
I rotated in a slow circle, searching the horizon until I saw him. Or perhaps it? I blinked, trying to comprehend what was gliding towards me and fighting the urge to flee. As it came closer the shape became distinguishable, with the body and form of a man, draped in luminous white robes. Much taller than any human man I'd ever met. Feathered wings protruded from his shoulder blades and his face was perfectly formed with pale skin, brilliant green eyes and long blonde hair, so fair it blended in with the surroundings. As he gazed down upon me, I came to the staggering realization that this was an honest-to-God angel. Was he Nememiah?
“Yes, child, I am Nememiah. Maker and protector of Nememiah's Children. They begat from me and carry my blood.” He glided slowly, coming to a halt opposite me. He had to be fifteen feet tall and as he stared, a sensation of immense peace trickled through my limbs, as if my bloodstream was filled with a calming analgesic. An overwhelming urge to touch the magnificent arc of feathered wing overcame me, but I tamped it down, clenching my hands into fists. “You carry the weapons of Nememiah's Children and I see the mark upon you, distinguishing you as my child. Yet, you are but a child yourself. Why do you seek entrance to Zaen?”
Opening my mouth to respond, I saw him lift a finger to his lips, silencing me. “There is no need to use voice here, child. I can hear you without spoken words, using only your mind.” I realized his mouth wasn't moving when he spoke, yet his voice was somehow being projected into my head. He extended one arm, touching his index finger to my forehead. The touch was warm against my skin, but not unpleasantly so – then realized that he was drawing everything he wanted from my mind, as if we were watching a movie together. He began in my childhood, watching me and Mom, what happened when Mom met Pete, the violence and the murders. I cringed when he watched me murder Pete, aware that he was seeing exactly what had happened. Would he strike me down because of what I'd done? He remained impassive as he watched two years of endless travels before I met Lucas and his friends. He saw the kidnapping by Armstrong and my time with Conal, kissing him as he licked my wounds. We flashed forward to Lucas and I at the top of the mountain, Lucas's kisses and holding me against him as though he would never willingly let go. Then Holden running towards me, Striker, William and Lucas converging in an attempt to stop the catastrophe which was imminent and the wave of power I'd thrown out towards the vampires. I watched myself sobbing incessantly when I'd left Puckhaber and lying on a bed in a hotel room, having fallen into an exhausted sleep. He continued to fast forward through my life, every single second of my existence in the past twelve months rushing through my mind at a dizzying pace. When we reached the point where I'd touch the wall of Zaen, he removed his finger from my forehead and I slumped to the floor, devoid of energy.
Nememiah glided away, moving smoothly across the floor as though he didn't rely on feet to transport himself. He turned back, green eyes speculative. “You are indeed my child. But you bring with you to Zaen others of the supernatural world. They cannot seek sanctuary in my city, it is only for children of my blood to take refuge. They must leave.”
“No!” The word erupted from my lips before I could think and Nememiah stared at me, eyes narrowed. I attempted to explain the situation. “You've seen what we're facing. You've seen what the Drâghici Consiliului intend to do. My friends must be able to enter Zaen with me, I need their help to defeat this threat and they need somewhere safe to live.”
Nememiah was thoughtful for a long time and I watched him anxiously. “It is true, this is a most unusual situation,” he finally admitted. “The Children of Nememiah were put on this earth by my hand a millennia ago to provide guidance and leadership to the very creatures you now align yourself with. And yet, my Children fought amongst themselves in their fervent desire, their very human yearning, for power and control. Perhaps it was erroneous to give my blood to create a new generation.” He turned and glided across the floor, moving back and forth as I watched. He appeared to be pacing, without his feet ever touching the floor. Of course, in the long white
robe, I couldn't see his feet, so I wasn't even certain he had any. When he finally stopped, he directed his intense gaze back at me. “The placing of you and the other one was an error on my part. I can foretell of future events and could see a time when my Children would be needed to keep the Earth at peace. It was not forecast for me upon the stars that the very reason I created you would become a motive for others to seek your power.”
It was like he was talking in riddles and I found the courage to say so. “Please explain what you mean. I don't understand.”
“There are events which will come to pass in the future – for which Nememiah's Children will be needed. You and the other one were pre-destined to join with each other and copulate, to create a new generation of my Children. The events I prepare for are centuries into the future.” He brushed his fingers across his jaw thoughtfully. “Your power and abilities have matured far earlier than I had envisaged, purely through the choices you have made and the desires of other supernaturals who seek power for their advantage.”
Digesting his words for a few minutes, I tried to analyze the meaning. Was he saying I wasn't meant to use my powers? Perhaps I'd only ever been meant to have mild psychic ability but what I'd gotten involved in, who I'd gotten involved with had changed all that. It was utterly creepy to think I was supposed to meet Archangelo and have children who would be pure angels. Now Nememiah's plan had been blown out of the water with Archangelo on the dark side and myself on the light.
“That is correct, child,” Archangelo announced. “This was indeed an error and I must now repair the damage I have created.” He lifted his right arm and I cowered, frightened of his intentions.
“Wait!” He lowered his arm slowly and I spoke hastily, certain he was going to kill me if I couldn't convince him there was another way. “Epi says you created Nememiah's Children from your blood and their purpose was to keep the Earth free of demons and keep order amongst the supernatural.”
Knowledge Hurts Page 14