‘If that is Orme our friend has just sprayed over the porthole, it will harden and deflect whatever energy is sent down the porthole right back to the source.’ Polaris sounded devastated by the destructive potential of the simple plan. ‘Such a blast would destroy Aramatena, blow its sibling planets off their orbit and effectively shut down the major porthole out of this universe.’
‘And also close down the Amenti passage, which means we’ll all be trapped here,’ I finished. Superhuman or not, I wanted to be sick. ‘So simple a child could do it’—I repeated the words of my adversary. I would never have suspected Emmett to be a foe; he seemed such a sweet, intelligent lad.
Denera urged me to pull myself together. ‘No time for regrets, Meridan.’
But my remorse was too great; it felt like a monster eating away at my insides. I couldn’t focus on anything but the devastation I was about to cause. ‘Don’t call me Meridan,’ I said, feeling I could never do the goddess within me justice.
‘It is your name,’ Denera insisted. ‘Own it.’
I took a deep breath to gather my wits. ‘Can I warn the Council of Aramatena from here?’ I asked.
Denera shook her head. ‘But you could quite possibly get a message to them via one of the other two planetary councils within the Cradle of Lyra.’
‘Where are Zalman and Castor now?’ I queried. They were the key-holders to Signet Stations Ten and Eleven whose stargates connected to Vega and Aveyon respectively.
‘Zalman is doing some investigative work for Tamar,’ Denera said. ‘Castor, however, you’ll find at his Signet station. He’s—’
I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I was gone through the emerald porthole passage, with Polaris hot on my heels.
CHAPTER 9
ARLIS-COCHIZEL—LAND’S END
The pyramid of Arlis-Cochizel
manifests the illusion of realities in time,
which,
on the Earth plane,
you perceive as lives past.
Seek these lifetimes
within this pyramid,
in the quest to understand
your current existence.
Find yourself in any timeline—
draw upon that myriad of experience,
to remember who you are
and why you came here.
For every end
is the prelude to a new beginning.
We passed through a wash of glimmering silver-black energy and were elevated onto the top of a pool of liquid light of the same colour. Around us was an amazing underwater control station, situated deep in a cavern of crystals under the ocean bed off Land’s End, England. The control centre was almost entirely glass, showcasing the vibrant sea life beyond and the glistening silver-black pyramid suspended overhead, which fed bolts of Blue Flame energy into the crystal conductors below.
‘Welcome to Lyonesse.’ Castor was there to meet us. ‘Or at least that’s what this area was called when it was above the water. This is the pyramid of Arlis-Cochizel, the revealer of lives past.’ He motioned to the celestial powerhouse above.
‘It’s all beautiful,’ I assured him, disappointed that I didn’t have time to give it the admiration it deserved, ‘but I have pressing need of your aid, Castor.’
I wasted no time in explaining the situation.
‘I will go to the Council of Aveyon with your message,’ Castor said, and he took our place on the silver-black pool of liquid light, which quickly formed into a whirlpool that sucked him into oblivion.
‘We were brothers once, you know,’ Polaris told me, making conversation while we awaited Castor’s return.
‘Yes, I know, I wrote about you both—’ I gasped as I caught sight of a treasure I hadn’t seen in some time. ‘Is that…?’
‘One of the arks? Yes, indeed. But not the one you think it is. The Ark of the Ring is still safely locked away in the Sinai, where you left it.’
I moved closer to the treasure, in awe of its history. ‘So this must be…’
‘The Ark of the Rod,’ Polaris confirmed.
‘So we know where they both are.’ I was relieved by this news, as Tamar would need both tools to unlock Amenti.
‘Ever since the time of Arthur the rod has been here.’ Polaris smiled at me as if I should know this.
‘Are you talking about King Arthur?’ I asked.
‘Yes, of course. That was Castor’s last incarnation before he joined our ranks…don’t you remember? You were the one who handed this treasure over to him for safekeeping.’
Pangs of awareness shot through my being as, under the influence of the pyramid of lives past, my memory of meeting with King Arthur was stirred…
I stood on a misty battlefield at dawn, heavily pregnant and weary from being pursued by those who sought the treasure in my possession. I had used the Rod of Power to spirit myself away from one place of peril to another. The King of the Britons knelt before me, and in his war-torn and battle-weary features I saw Castor.
‘I have seen you in my dreams, lady,’ he told me, seeking an explanation I did not have the time to give.
‘A far greater enemy than the Romans is coming to claim this sacred relic,’ I told him. ‘Many lives have been lost to see it this far, and I can take it no further. Only you can see it to safety now, old friend.’
‘What must I do?’ he asked, his voice and eyes burning with conviction.
‘It must be taken to the island off the far southern tip of your isle, and there you will find a safe haven,’ I instructed.
‘Lyonesse?’ He sounded confused.
‘Your enemies will try to pursue you,’ I warned, ‘and once you reach the said isle, you must use this treasure to sink it.’
Arthur looked shocked, but only for a moment. ‘I will gladly give my life for your cause, lady.’
I smiled down at the noble king who was completely oblivious to his own destiny. ‘That will not prove necessary,’ I assured him, and placed a hand on his forehead. ‘Remember who you really are.’
The vision faded and I was returned to the present, and Polaris, who was still awaiting an answer from me.
‘So, it wasn’t the Lady of the Lake who gave Arthur Excalibur,’ I said.
‘No,’ Polaris agreed, ‘it was the Lady du Lac.’
Du Lac was the name of a bloodline of Grail princesses into which many of my Dragon sisters had incarnated at one time or another. In the Halls of Amenti I had remembered a lifetime in which I too had been born into this bloodline; and some claimed my exploits in that lifetime had been handed down to the present day through the guise of Mary Magdalene.
‘But how can that be?’ I wondered aloud. ‘The historical dates don’t match up; Arthur wasn’t a contemporary of Jesus Christ.’ Was it my own memory that deceived me?
‘True, they weren’t contemporary, so how do you think the Magdalene and Arthur came to meet?’ Polaris prompted.
I gasped at his implication, and observed the ancient treasure in a whole new light. ‘The rod can be used to create a time tunnel!’
‘Affirmative,’ the captain said with a smile. ‘But only someone of your ilk, with supreme control of his or her psychic abilities, with knowledge of the Earth grid and its hot spots, who was privy to secret universal doctrine like the natural biorhythms of the planet, could have created such an accurate porthole. You see, the problem with seeking a location in the future is having sufficient knowledge of future history.’
‘Wow, was I really that advanced?’ I said, stunned. ‘When I walked the Halls of Amenti I recalled my life as a noblewoman, a descendant of the Royal House of Israel. I was of the priestly line of the Maccabees, who reigned in Jerusalem for hundreds of years before the Romans stole it from us. My name at that time was Magdalen, it’s true, but that woman’s life, beliefs and associations were so different from the stories of Mary Magdalene I know that it didn’t seem possible to me that they could be the same woman. If I was the Magdalene of the Bible—’
‘You
were,’ Polaris assured me.
‘Then the man I married in that lifetime was a brilliant revolutionary, not at all the passive Jesus the Church has created. His name wasn’t even Jesus!’
‘History is written and rewritten by the victors, and for a long time the only victors on Earth have been those seeking to hide the truth from the likes of us,’ Polaris explained. ‘No one has ever been able to give an exact date for Arthur’s rule in Britain, or even proof that he existed at all! Why? Because he was such a threat to the Old World Order—they could not beat him, they could not kill him, they could not control him and, in the end, they could not find him…thanks to you.’
‘I remembered Magdalen’s lifetime very clearly in Amenti, but I didn’t recall wielding the Rod of Power, so how is it I just recalled meeting with Arthur?’
‘Because the moment in question is now part of the wormhole system that runs through the Kali rift; it’s a station in time that can be used in the inter-time war, and hence the fate of that moment is ever-changing.’
I was confused, and frowned.
‘How can you remember the outcome of a moment that has no set outcome?’ Polaris said, to try to make me feel better, but by now I was so bewildered I gave up trying to understand.
‘So I truly was the Black Madonna?’ I asked instead.
‘As surely as I was Earnest Devere, or Captain Henry Sinclair. And as the Black Madonna, you are the only one who can unite the ring and the rod to form the key to Amenti for Kali. Which you will do if your daughter proves worthy.’
‘And if she doesn’t?’
Polaris didn’t have an answer. Instead, he willed the lid of the ark to rise, exposing its golden belly and the glowing parts of the staff therein.
I hadn’t expected to see it in three parts. ‘Is it broken?’
‘Not at all.’ Castor’s response startled us both into an about-face, hands behind our backs like children caught misbehaving. ‘The pieces connect to form a sword or a longer rod and blade; hence the confusion through the ages as to whether it was a rod or a sword or a spear.’
This was all fascinating, but I needed to know the result of his meeting with the Council of Aveyon. ‘What news?’ I asked.
His broad smile reassured me. ‘The crisis has passed. The Council of Aveyon were able to warn Aramatena in time to prevent them attempting to destroy the Triogenes pyramid.’
I breathed a huge sigh of relief, glad that I wouldn’t be remembered as the person who had destroyed the primary porthole out of this universe.
‘However,’ Castor continued, ‘if we don’t do something about booting those invading bastards out of Meridan station soon, they may figure out another way of disabling the pyramid from this end.’
‘But don’t we need the stargate functioning in order to open Amenti?’ I didn’t really understand the mechanics of the grid; I was a designer of etheric architecture, not an engineer.
‘No,’ Polaris informed me, ‘we only need the pyramid active, and it’s now locked on. Of course, the defunct porthole means we can no longer directly access Meridan station via the grid, nor Aramatena, but it could have been much worse.’
‘And still could be if we don’t get a move on.’ Caster motioned us to the porthole, and the lid of the ark closed as we departed.
‘We can pick up Klieo from the cavern of Mamer and use her to get us to Montségur,’ Polaris suggested.
‘And if my husband is no longer a threat, we can recruit him to help with this clean-up,’ I added.
Polaris gave me the thumbs up, before we were all swept back to Thoth Station beneath Giza.
Albray was in the Hall of Records awaiting our return with Denera, who appeared much more at ease than when I had seen her last.
‘Mia!’ Albray embraced me, having been told of my ordeal, then pulled back to say, ‘I picked a hell of a time to drop the ball.’
‘Well,’ I smiled, ‘at least now we know why Sabine didn’t give you any serious sabotage orders. The Nefilim had their own plans and were just aiming to get you out of the way.’
He returned my smile with one that looked forced. ‘We need to talk.’
‘No, we don’t.’ I took him by the hand and led him into the hall, leaving Castor, Polaris and Denera to discuss our next move.
‘Mia, please…’ Albray urged me to hear him out, bursting to clear his conscience.
‘I know what you’re going to say,’ I told him, for in my heart I did know. ‘I know what she demanded of you, and, unless you did it by choice, we have nothing to discuss but the state of your well-being.’ I brushed back his long, dark fringe to see the relief upon his face. ‘Are you okay?’ I asked.
‘I’m fine now.’ Obviously his own well-being had been the last thing on his mind. ‘Honestly, I don’t remember a thing.’
‘Well, if neither of us remembers the event, we can pretend it never happened—’
Albray shook his head and reaching inside his jacket, he produced a sheaf of handwritten papers. ‘Unfortunately, Tamar witnessed most of it.’
My eyes welled with tears as I sensed my husband’s shame.
‘She was surprisingly mature about the whole thing,’ he said with a heavy sigh. ‘She even managed to make me feel a little better about the episode.’ Then his expression changed from shame to annoyance. ‘What I don’t feel good about, however, is the fact that Tamar is falling for Killian Labontè, and as he’s the only one, apart from our staff, who knew I’d been set up, chances are he set you up too.’
‘Not good,’ I agreed, confused by the events I’d witnessed this day. ‘So where does Emmett fit into all this? I got the impression that Emmett and Killian don’t get along. Was that an act, like Killian’s hatred of his parents? Are they all in on it? And what about Emmett’s father, Dr Rich? I didn’t find anything even slightly suspect about his light-body, nor Emmett’s for that matter. If their bodies were shielded by the Nefilim’s new auric simulator, I sure as hell didn’t notice it.’
I was distracted by Zalman striding past us into the Hall of Records.
‘We need to take some prisoners and carry out some serious telepathic interrogation,’ Albray said, and we both turned to follow Zalman and discover the reason for his haste.
‘I have traced the various family lines that sprang from Miss Koriche’s gene pool,’ Zalman informed us. ‘She currently has twenty-six living male descendants, from twenty-five different branches of her family tree, and they are spread all over the world.’
‘Bugger,’ said Polaris.
‘Why are we tracing Miss Koriche’s family?’ I asked, puzzled.
Polaris filled Albray and me in on the breakthrough they’d had regarding the identification of Mathu’s current earthly embodiment, via a pendant he had left with Miss Koriche to pass onto her sons.
‘Killian Labontè is one of those descendants,’ Zalman advised us, and the shock was visible on every face around him.
‘Are you telling me Tamar might be right about him being an innocent victim?’ Albray said; my husband didn’t like to think his instincts might be failing him.
‘Sabine knew you’d been set up,’ I pointed out. ‘Perhaps she set me up too.’
‘But Sabine didn’t know that Polaris knew I’d been set up,’ Albray said. ‘So she couldn’t have advised anyone of his involvement, nor his appearance to enable one of the Nefilim to assume his form to deceive you.’
‘Are you defending her?’ I folded my arms, suspicious that he might have remembered more than he was telling.
‘No,’ he stressed. ‘I’m just trying to narrow down the possibilities—’
‘To Killian Labontè,’ I cut in. I believed his fatherly instincts were interfering with his reasoning ability.
Zalman spoke up over the interruptions: ‘However, the family most likely to be in possession of the pendant at this time is that of Dr Colin Rich.’
I gasped. ‘Emmett?’
I looked up to the dome, where the golden slab that had r
eplaced the pool of liquid light at the heart of Meridan station was still visible. Emmett was no longer in the control centre, however. Perhaps he’d gone in search of an escape route. I wondered how long it would be before he figured out that he was trapped in there until I released him.
‘Surely he cannot be Mathu?’ I said. ‘Why would Mathu do this?’
‘The being who disabled your porthole is obviously not the real Emmett Rich,’ Denera pointed out. ‘Merely one of the Nefilim posing as him.’
‘The Nefilim kill those whose identity they assume,’ Polaris added, ‘so the real Emmett Rich is most likely dead.’
‘For all our sakes, I hope not,’ Denera said.
I disagreed with Polaris too. ‘No, I suspect this identity takeover was a last-minute counterplan.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Albray asked, curious.
‘Emmett confronted me about Tamar’s association with Killian today, right before I entered the labyrinth. I’m sure his concern about her was real emotion, which is the one thing the Nefilim can’t fake…that’s what made me suspect that a Nefilim was impersonating Albray, and then I discovered the auric irregularity.’
‘Let us find out. I’ll need a memory reference to pinpoint the event,’ Denera said. She approached me, placed a hand either side of my head and told me to relax. ‘Think back to that confrontation with Emmett,’ she instructed.
I did, and Denera released me. ‘Very good,’ she said, and stepped up onto the circular platform before the control station. The light-tube closed around her and its liquid-light walls relayed images of the event. The almost completely circular room and the dome overhead made it seem as if we were standing right in the middle of the action.
‘All you history hunters are alike!’ Emmett yelled down the stairwell after me. ‘Why do you think the past is so much more important than the present? Nothing is more important than the present—it’s the only reality that actually exists! Where we can have an effect!’
The Black Madonna (The Mystique Trilogy) Page 9