The Black Madonna (The Mystique Trilogy)

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The Black Madonna (The Mystique Trilogy) Page 23

by Traci Harding


  I held my breath, sure we were the next targets for the bloodthirsty gathering. I longed for an excuse to end this horror for all involved.

  Killian noticed my itchy fingers. ‘Take action and Tamar dies,’ he warned.

  I tried to calm myself but the rage built inside me. The demons were penetrating my aura—but if I allowed hatred to become my motivating force, I was little better than the lost souls I wanted to punish.

  ‘The proof of our power,’ shouted the master of ceremonies. ‘Behold the timewalkers I promised you.’

  They are expecting us? I was stunned by this as we had just come from the future. Was this dark human a prophet? Or had this event been planned since the early 1900s?

  ‘Mercy, be gone!’ he cried, turning my way and grinning horribly to reveal a mouthful of teeth sharpened to razor-like points. ‘Damn those who pity! Drag down their souls to awful torment, laugh at their fear…spit upon them!’

  Upon his instruction, the debauchery resumed with a vengeance.

  ‘Get ready to move,’ Killian instructed. ‘They’ll only manage to open this porthole for a few seconds.’

  The dark master raised his hands in the air and the wind tunnel in the centre of the room reached maximum momentum. ‘I am the god of war and vengeance! I will give thee a war engine and none shall stand before thee!’

  The wind tunnel fell on its end, a huge burst of energy crackled through the room and a passage through time opened.

  ‘Go!’ Killian grabbed my arm and charged us forward, taking a flying jump over the pit of death and into the wormhole that was already collapsing in on itself.

  My passage through the dark vortex, which had been constructed from human misery, was like being stabbed with ice-cold daggers all over my body. I felt overwhelmed by sadness, shame and guilt; my heart ached with such vengeance that I wished I could rip it from me to stop the agony.

  I landed with a thud, and could do little more than lie there as my entire body trembled violently from overexposure to the low-level frequency. I was the Blue Flame bearer and had my own inbuilt source of Blue Flame energy, yet it seemed as if that open channel had been clogged so I couldn’t draw upon it. What must Tamar be experiencing right now? I wondered, for surely the frequency of Irkalla must be even more violent than what I had just endured. I wept for my baby girl and for the great burdens she had been born to bear.

  ‘Mia?’

  For a moment I couldn’t focus; I felt so weak, so miserable and guilty, I could only sob.

  A warm, gentle hand came to rest on my forehead and a rush of beautiful energy flowed through my third-eye chakra and into my body with such force that it set my eyelids fluttering. The energy felt so familiar to me. I couldn’t place where I had encountered it before, but in my soul I knew this frequency belonged to someone I had admired and loved very much. As the wave of healing rolled down through my chakra system, my damaged light centres were cleared of the recent stress and my vitality levels were restored. I ceased feeling sorry for myself and sat upright, to confront Killian’s smiling face.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, as if he was genuinely concerned.

  ‘What do you care?’ I said, and moved away from him, looking around for the being that had just healed me.

  ‘It was me,’ Killian said, then turned his attention to the spectacular, pristine coast of the southernmost tip of Britain.

  I was stunned. How could such a healing energy have come from this man? Surely he has been far too damaged in his lifetime.

  I examined him with my third-eye vision and found a well-developed light-body with dark patches over the throat and lower chakras, but surprisingly clear gut, heart and mind centres.

  ‘Look at that!’ He sounded as excited as a kid at Christmas as he directed my attention to an island city that stood at the end of a long stretch of beach running out from the headland at Land’s End. ‘Lyonesse,’ he said, and laughed like a madman. ‘I made it!’ He threw his arms in the air and collapsed to his knees. ‘I am in the fifth fucking century where no alien being knows that I exist!’ He flopped back onto the ground and took in a deep breath. ‘We are going to screw those fucking bastards, Mia…so badly.’

  ‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘You’re on humanity’s side now? Killian, I can’t keep up with your personality switches—’

  ‘I have always been on humanity’s side and I am in complete control,’ he assured me.

  ‘Then why didn’t you help me do something about that holocaust we just passed through?’ I challenged.

  ‘If we stopped that holocaust it would have spoilt our chances of influencing the only event that will prevent all the holocausts!’ Killian said wisely.

  ‘And when you tried to bleed my brain out through my nose?’

  ‘Well, I had to do something, you were walking all over us,’ he said, using flattery. ‘This is what I planned all along. Those Montauk buffoons never had control over me. I’ve developed my psychic abilities so well that I control them! Now they trust me so implicitly they didn’t even send a Dracon escort with us…Losers!’ Killian was up on his feet again, too pumped full of adrenaline to sit still.

  I found this young man quite baffling; he was so full of aggression and anger, and yet he could obviously transmute that violent energy into a healing force. He was a complete contradiction, and yet that appeared to make him the perfect balance of good and evil, love and hatred, light and shadow.

  ‘How can you be so sure the Nefilim aren’t aware of your presence here in ancient Britain?’ I queried. ‘Those Nazis we just left behind were clearly expecting our intrusion.’

  ‘Oh, we weren’t an intrusion, we were the main event,’ Killian advised. ‘A bit of forward planning never goes astray and the Nefilim have had plenty of time to plot their course to world domination.’

  I needed to make it clear that I had my own plans. ‘I’m not going back to Montauk.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Killian agreed. ‘We’re going to take the Rod of Power back to 2017 to free Tamar so that she can uncreate this whole mess!’

  He was sure I would be with him on that count, but I shook my head.

  ‘Delivering the Rod of Power to the Nefilim’s capital city is not on the agenda either,’ I told him. ‘The best thing we could do is leave the rod right where it is, with Castor.’

  ‘We can’t leave it, we need it to get home,’ Killian pointed out, annoyed by my resistance.

  ‘Not entirely true,’ I argued.

  ‘I’ve spent my entire life trying to find that treasure. There’s no way I’m going to leave it behind!’

  ‘You can’t wield it!’ I warned.

  ‘You didn’t think I was capable of healing either.’

  He had a point. ‘Who are you, Killian?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ he said defiantly. ‘I’m just a dumb fuck unlucky enough to be born into a brainwashed, power-hungry family who didn’t give a fuck about him.’ He shrugged.

  ‘So how did you do it? How did you manage to stay sane and keep your heart?’

  ‘I learned about the enemy of my enemy,’ he replied, looking deep into my eyes. ‘The staff of Amenti.’

  ‘Who told you about us?’

  ‘The Sanat Kumara. He told me he was this planet’s guardian entity and that if I endured, one day I’d be in a position to assist you.’

  I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Is it true that all the souls ever lost to the bloodlust of the Old World Order will be freed from darkest density if the Halls of Amenti open?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s true,’ I confirmed, ‘if we succeed in raising the consciousness of humanity high enough. It’s not vengeance that will free those souls. Only love of all things great and small, good and evil, will void the reality that is the Kali rift.’

  ‘Love?’ Killian said, surprised. ‘To the Nefilim, love is a weakness to be exploited—’

  ‘The fallen are disillusioned, and incapable of understanding the power of emotion,’ I interjected b
efore he worked himself into a tizz. ‘Unconditional love is the greatest strength to be found within the five harmonic universes. It can heal anything…but I believe you already know that.’

  The expression on Killian’s face was one of relief and awe—perhaps even a little lovestruck. ‘Do you know how long I have waited to stand in the presence of someone who is on the same side as me?’ he said. ‘Someone I don’t have to pretend with?’

  ‘Someone like Tamar?’

  I felt it best to remind him of his attraction to my daughter, as his dark eyes were observing me far more intently than I liked.

  ‘Tamar is a goddess,’ he said, moving towards me, ‘but for some reason I feel more of a connection to you.’

  ‘A connection?’ I asked, backing up a few paces to maintain some distance between us.

  He stopped at my retreat. ‘I feel like I’ve known you before.’

  ‘Well, perhaps you have.’ I tried to make light of his now obvious attraction.

  ‘You don’t feel it then?’ he asked in all seriousness.

  ‘I don’t.’ I looked deep into his soulful blue eyes for emphasis…where I found myself drowning, mesmerised by the light I saw in them.

  ‘What about now?’ He placed a hand to my cheek.

  My face melted into his palm; his touch, his aura, was so familiar, so intense, that tears welled in my eyes. Yet my memory still failed to make the connection—I couldn’t place where and when we had met before.

  ‘Mia?’ He removed his hand when he saw I was upset. ‘I—’

  He stopped as a rumbling vibrated through the earth beneath our feet; it was slight at first but built rapidly.

  ‘Earthquake?’ he guessed.

  I shook my head; it wasn’t moving fast enough for a tremor. ‘An army.’

  I looked to the north-west and saw the force starting to spill over the horizon. There was a lone rider some distance in front of the pack—he had nearly reached the cliff face a little further down the coast.

  ‘Castor,’ I said, and moved towards the cliff face, intending to meet my old ally on the beach.

  Two aircraft, more advanced even than those of my home era, swooped down from the cloudy sky and dived at the lone rider, who abandoned his startled horse and made a run for the cliffs.

  ‘Goddamn it!’ Killian yelled, freaked out by the unexpected appearance of the advanced craft. He grabbed me from where I was standing, mystified, out in the open and hurried me to the cover of the cliffs. ‘Go, go, go!’

  He guided me into a large crevice, where we crouched low to watch what was unfolding.

  The aircraft had circled around and were now firing laser bullets at their target, who was scrambling down the cliff. He jumped to the beach, grabbed the long covered object he’d thrown down ahead of him, and started running towards the island.

  ‘The rod,’ Killian said. ‘He’ll never make it on foot.’

  I listened to the aircraft as they turned for another pass at their target. In my mind I saw the two craft collide, and instantly they crashed into one another and plummeted to the ground. The impact shook the cliff face and sent rocks tumbling onto the beach below.

  ‘Yes!’ Killian cheered. ‘I did it!’

  ‘You did it?’ I queried his boast.

  ‘And here I was thinking it was me.’ A third voice startled Killian and me to our feet.

  Our mysterious intruder stood in the shadows, his face cloaked by a hood. When I turned to him he gasped, astonished. ‘Forgive my insolence, lady, I did not realise it was you.’ He removed the hood and I beheld Castor, scruffy, long-haired, bloodied and unshaven.

  ‘How can he recognise you if you meet in the future?’ Killian asked.

  ‘My lady came from the past. Although her colouring and attire have altered,’ Castor said, ‘I would know her anywhere. She gave me this.’ He raised his cloak to expose the hilt of a golden sword.

  ‘The Rod of Power!’ Killian nearly choked on the realisation that his search was at an end. ‘Where’s the rest of it?’ The rod had been shortened to its sword form.

  ‘I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you,’ Castor replied. ‘As you are a friend to my lady, I am loath to do that.’

  Killian had a chuckle. ‘He thinks we’re friends.’

  ‘We are friends,’ I said, startling Killian. ‘Unless, of course, you’ve been lying to me?’

  ‘No,’ Killian insisted, intrigued by my sincerity. ‘You believe me then?’

  ‘It is our mission to believe in you,’ I said, including Castor in my comment, ‘and in all humankind.’

  ‘I see.’ He sounded a little disappointed by my generalisation, but I didn’t want to encourage his attraction to me.

  ‘So the runner is a decoy,’ I said to Castor, looking over to the island. The man had made it as far as the vegetation bordering the island city. The enemy army were swarming down the cliffs like a plague of insects and racing across the narrowing strip of beach.

  ‘Once all our enemies are on the island, I will sink it,’ Castor said.

  ‘And what of the good citizens of Lyonesse?’ I asked, concerned about the repercussions of the order I had given in another life.

  ‘Evacuated, my lady,’ he advised. ‘They considered their beloved city a small price to pay to get the Saxons and their demon allies off our backs. This show of power will hopefully deter the murderous invaders, at least until the memory fades into legend.’

  ‘Demon allies?’ Killian took a closer look at the pursuing army and discovered that many of them were reptilian, and that they were being led by one of the Nefilim, disguised as a man. ‘Erragal.’ He said the name with loathing.

  ‘Aye,’ Castor said, ‘he took on the guise of my son, Mordred, and made chaos from the harmony I spent a lifetime creating.’

  ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ Killian cried. ‘You could destroy Erragal right now! You have the rod, there’s the target; shoot!’

  Castor and I both shook our heads.

  ‘I have already explained to you that the object of the game is to love thine enemy, not to destroy him,’ I said.

  Killian was both encouraged and perplexed by my reasoning. ‘His worship here is about to kill an entire army when he sinks that island!’ he said. ‘What’s the difference?’

  ‘The difference is that all the humans who perish will reincarnate,’ I explained.

  ‘And will become more constructive human beings, if they learn their lesson from this day,’ Castor added.

  ‘The Nefilim lord and the Dracon won’t perish, they’ll just be shaken up a little,’ I concluded.

  Killian sighed. ‘To what end? So they can return nastier and in greater numbers than before? I happen to believe that the destruction of their kind is a constructive move.’

  ‘He seems a little unsure of which side he serves, my lady,’ Castor commented, and I had to laugh at how quickly he’d summed up Killian.

  ‘Understatement of the century,’ I replied.

  Killian objected to being assessed. ‘Hey, I know I’m confused, but what do you expect after my upbringing? Why do you think I’m so desperate to find somewhere to sort my head out, somewhere the Nefilim won’t be waiting to screw me over! This isn’t going to be quite the holiday I expected,’ he went on, ‘but they don’t know I’m here, so my plan is still sound…I think.’

  ‘Your plan?’ I queried. ‘I’ve already told you that I’m not—’

  ‘What month is this?’ Killian asked Castor, ignoring me.

  ‘It is the month of Coll. Why do you ask?’

  He turned to me. ‘What month is that?’

  I ran through the old Celtic calendar in my mind, matching it to the modern calendar. ‘August.’

  Killian looked pleased. ‘Just as I suspected. You see, all of the Nefilim’s time tunnels run through August in twenty-year cycles. So if you cut a hole back through time today to 2003, you’ll succeed in creating a new superhighway in the Nefilim’s wormhole system, straight bac
k to here with portholes every twenty years in between.’

  ‘That is a lot of history to play with,’ I emphasised. ‘So what are you saying—that we’re stuck here?’ I finished.

  ‘Only temporarily. In ten years and six months, we can cut a wormhole back to the future at the opposing end of the cycles of time, and then there’ll be no chance of the wormholes being joined.’

  ‘Ten and a half years!’ What was I going to do in the fifth century for all that time? Still, I couldn’t see any other way to avoid aiding the enemy to do exactly what they’d sent me here to do.

  ‘If we depart from here in February in fourteen years’ time,’ Killian said, expanding on his theory, ‘we’ll arrive in 2017 a couple of months early to save Tamar—’

  ‘Our target year must be 2003,’ I insisted, throwing a spanner in the works.

  ‘I just got through explaining that you can’t go back along the time line that leads through that year. If we wait here eighteen years, we could get to 2001, but even then you’re cutting close to the twenty-year cycle of the Nefilim’s wormholes.’

  ‘If that’s what it takes to meet up with my teammates where I left them and prevent this entire Montauk debacle from interfering with our original mission, then that’s what I’ll do,’ I said firmly. ‘In the meantime, you can give me the lowdown on what you’ve learned of the Nefilim operations here on Earth—starting with how you channel Ill.’ I was still most curious about that. ‘And how you came in contact with the Sanat Kumara.’

  ‘What?’ Castor was astounded. ‘How could you possibly be able to channel both the purest and the most evil entities in this entire evolutionary scheme?’

  ‘Not at the same time, I can’t,’ Killian clarified. ‘The hemispheres of my brain have been completely split in two and function independently, but I can switch sides at will.’

  ‘Incredible!’ Castor said.

  ‘What can I say?’ Killian shrugged. ‘Those Montauk fucks really screwed with my head.’

  Castor was baffled by the response. ‘Well, not to worry, I know someone who may be able to shed some light on the matter. And after today’s events, I’m going to have to seek his assistance to disappear myself.’

 

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