Surid pushed on. “We have a theory.”
Theory? Govannan pressed his fingers together. Guilds usually called a meeting such as this to announce information or prophecy, not guesses.
“We are all aware of the history of manifestation on this planet Earth. The creators perfected their plans in the etheric dimension before manifesting physical forms.” Exquisite pictures filled the sphere—seals dived into aquamarine water, deer ran across a green meadow, a flock of parakeets launched themselves into the sky. “The creators manifested those blueprints into the reality of physical being.”
Govannan nodded. The origin of life on Earth was a familiar story to all Atlanteans.
“We at the New Knowledge Guild believe that physicality is now taking its own course, developing in ways not anticipated.”
Nagaitco, a man from the Music Guild, leaned toward him. “What did he say?”
“Not anticipated,” Govannan answered in an undertone.
“But…” Nagaitco’s wrinkled brow mirrored Govannan’s own bewilderment.
“Yes, not anticipated.” Surid enunciated the words distinctly.
The room buzzed with voices. Evenor raised his hand and the voices subsided. “Let us hear the entire presentation,” he said in a tone so mild he might be commenting on the weather. The crystal in the middle showed images of tall light beings.
Surid nodded to the Master of the Guild of Governors and waited for absolute silence. Govannan felt another stab of annoyance.
“Of course, the first response people have when they are introduced to this idea is to say that the creators were incapable of making mistakes. Yet, do we not have evidence to the contrary? The illnesses exist and our talented healers still struggle.”
If such a thing were possible, Govannan would have thought the man was enjoying the Healing Guild’s failure.
Surid drew himself up to his full height. “We proposed to check actual developments against the original blueprints. Once we have determined if our physical development has gone off course, we can correct the problems on this dimension.”
A silence as chilly as the deepest waters of the Atlantic hung about the room, but the cacophony of emotion beneath that silence plucked at Govannan’s empathic senses like a lyre buffeted by gale winds. The Guild Masters sat in various attitudes of disbelief—some openly stunned, others hiding their feelings behind polite smiles. Govannan filtered out the emotions of the room for a moment to check his own response. The creators were beings of cosmic intelligence, and he doubted their designs needed improvement. Doubt was actually a polite mask for his certainty that anyone who thought the creators could have made a mistake was himself deluded.
“As a matter of fact, we’ve already begun to collect some samples,” Surid announced.
The words struck Govannan like a blow to the chest. The room erupted in a cacophony of voices. “Already begun?” “Without our permission?” “Mistakes of the creators?” Evenor stood, holding his hands out like he was giving the group a blessing. The crystal in the center frosted over completely.
Govannan shielded himself from the chaos and focused on the head of the New Knowledge Guild, who was trying to speak over the din. He closed his eyes and sent a deep probe into the man. The surface of his mind was filled with facts, anxiety about how his presentation would be received, and catalogs of species to be checked. Beneath all this were images of a little girl playing in a garden and a woman sitting in the shade of a mango tree, laughing. Govannan sank deeper still, searching for the natural link all life shared, that basic connection to the One Source. It ran beneath Surid’s conscious awareness, like a secret underground stream, but the man’s mind seemed unaware of it. Instinctively, Govannan reached for the key crystal he carried with him at all times, his link to the Mother Stone, and directed a stream of energy to Surid to restore his connection. The energy fell flat. Surid continued to talk, his mind separated from this deep inner stream of knowing. Govannan sat back heavily in his chair. How could this be? He never encountered such a case in an adult. Certainly young children needed nurturing to establish a firm connection with the One, but an adult? The head of a guild?
Evenor finally managed to restore order with the assistance of the Healers Guild, who chanted a quiet undertone that calmed and reassured. Evenor straightened his robes, nodding at a comment whispered in his ear. He looked around the room, again gathering the attention of each of the assembled much as a shepherd gathers his flock. “The Elders will meet to seek balance in this matter.”
Murmurs of agreement began to rise, but Evenor held up his hand. He turned to Surid. “We will call for you to hear more testimony when we are ready.”
Surid opened his mouth as if to protest, but must have thought better of it.
Evenor looked around again. “Let us be wise in what we say to others. There is some unrest in the city due to these illnesses. We do not wish to increase our fellow citizens’ alarm, but to soothe it. Healing comes with calm.”
Govannan hurried through the crowd without stopping to speak with anyone. He needed to find Rhea, the head of the Crystal Guild. She could help him understand what he felt from Surid.
* * * *
Megan floated like a piece of kelp in the middle of the hottest tub in the bathhouse. The waters worked their magic. She took a deep breath and submerged, then tilted her face up and resurfaced, allowing the water to sluice off her body. Hurried footsteps approached and she reached for a wrap, still shy in her new surroundings. Thuya stopped at the edge of the pool, her face flushed, panting from her rush. “The Head Mistress has sent for you, child. You must come at once,” she blurted out.
Megan clambered out of the pool. She toweled her hair while Thuya dried off her back. Megan grabbed her clothes and dressed quickly. Thuya held her at arm’s length, as her mother did just yesterday, and straightened her hair and robe until Megan met her approval. “Now, come with me. I’ll show you the way.”
Megan followed, although secretly she thought she could get there faster on her own.
“Of course you could, dear, but I want to tell you who you’re going to meet.”
“Sorry,” Megan said in an undertone, realizing Thuya picked up her thought psychically.
Thuya chuckled. “No need to apologize, I know I’m an old woman. Now, pay attention. Rhea is the head of the Crystal Guild, Govannan leads the Crystal Matrix Chamber.” She looked back at Megan, who nodded. “Rhea heard we have a new apprentice and wants to meet you.”
Thuya led her to the Grand Hall, across from the building she met Govannan in that morning. “Let the Guild Mistress speak first, and only answer her questions. Don’t introduce your own topic.”
“I understand,” Megan said.
“It is customary to bow in honor of the wisdom of the guild, then stand and wait for her to invite you to sit.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They made their way down a long hallway, Megan trying to silence the slap of her slippers on the wood floor. Thuya, for all her girth, made no noise at all. At the end of the hall, Thuya stopped, catching her breath again. She gave Megan a once over and straightened her hair again. “Such thick curls,” she murmured. She gave Megan’s robe one last tug, then nodded.
Glad she regained her composure in the bathhouse, Megan straightened her shoulders and knocked on the door. A young man her own age opened it and waved her in. He ushered her past a small reception room into a larger one, then closed the door behind her. A bank of windows commanded a view of the formal gardens of the complex. Columns of water from the tall fountain in the center spurted high into the air over the heads of circular beds of roses. An elegant desk with a slim communication screen atop it stood in one corner of the room. Shelves artfully arranged with scrolls, crystals, and statues covered the wall behind. Megan looked around for the Guild Mistress and found her sitting o
n a low divan at the other end of the room, a tall palm arching over her head like the cobra that protected one of the Indian deities. Her hair haloed her face, a translucent cloud like a dandelion gone to seed. She gestured for Megan to come closer. Green eyes looked deep into her, taking her full measure, and Megan took a step back, a cub surprised by the power of the lioness. A smile lifted the corners of the Guild Mistress’s delicate mouth, lighting up her face like the sun. Megan forgot all Thuya’s careful instructions and introduced herself, then sat down in a chair opposite the Guild Mistress’s divan. Remembering herself, she jumped back up. “I’m sorry.”
“I am Rhea.” A smile flitted across her lips. “Please sit and make yourself comfortable. I wanted to welcome you to your new home.”
Megan sat down and studied the rug.
“I understand you observed a transport today. Your arrival was well timed. Govannan will be here momentarily—”
Megan flushed a deep red that matched part of the rug’s pattern.
“—and you can tell us what you experienced. This will help us decide what you should study first.”
Before Megan could recover from this news, the door opened behind her and Govannan rushed into the room. “We have a problem. The New Knowledge Guild has already—”
Rhea cut him off with a gesture. He looked around, setting the shells in his braids jingling. “Megan,” he said in surprise.
Her face flushed again and Megan cursed her fair skin. “Sir.” She nodded at him, wishing she could disappear.
“Please have a seat.” Govannan sat and Megan moved back so a potted palm next to her chair hid her face. A trickle of water ran down her neck from her damp hair, and she wiped it off on the sleeve of her robe.
Rhea rang a small silver bell by her side and the young man came in. “Bring us some juice, please.” Govannan shifted in his chair, setting his shells off again. The assistant bowed slightly and left.
“The arrival of a new student in the Crystal Matrix Chamber is a momentous occasion, don’t you agree, Matrix Master?”
“Indeed, Guild Mistress.”
Megan wondered at their sudden formality.
Govannan looked at her. “Please tell us what you experienced during the transport.”
Megan looked at Rhea, who smiled encouragingly. “The people in the chamber formed a circle, but I felt energies running across the circle as well.”
“Yes,” Rhea said. “Were you able to figure out any of the formations?”
Megan shook her head. “It all happened so fast. When they started chanting, I saw colors and felt…” She groped for words.
“What colors did you see?” Rhea began to question her about specific parts of the ceremony, and Megan began to perceive a structure that she had missed before. Rhea asked about the patterns in the circle, the preliminary chant, the activation of the Sentinels.
The assistant arrived and handed out glasses of juice. Megan took a sip, and the combination of orange, mango and passion fruit soothed a thirst left from her soak in the hot waters that she hadn’t felt before. Refreshed, she relaxed under the Guild Mistress’s guidance. “When the huge crystal lit up, it was hard to keep track. It shook my bones. I got lost in the swirls of colors.”
Govannan nodded his head. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Did you hear any tones?” Rhea asked.
“I did.” Megan sat forward in her chair eagerly. “A note that seemed to be a part of the chant that matched—” She looked down, suddenly remembering the aching intimacy of that song.
Rhea came to her rescue. “We in the guild become accustomed to the ...” The Guild Mistress paused, searching for the right word.
“Rapport?” Govannan offered.
“Yes,” Rhea nodded at him, her eyes shining.
Megan looked from one to the other, briefly wondering about their relationship. Govannan rushed into the Guild Mistress’s office as if it were his own.
“The work we do brings our minds and hearts in close proximity,” Rhea said.
Megan’s heart sank. Of course they were lovers. Govannan was an accomplished man at the peak of his powers, the head of their division, Rhea beautiful and just as talented. Megan was an untried beginner with a hopeless schoolgirl crush.
The Guild Mistress continued. “It can be uncomfortable to feel such familiarity with people you’ve just met, but the Thirteen chose you because your energy signature completes the circle.”
“I heard it too, Megan.” Govannan’s husky voice reached into her and pebbled her flesh. She looked up at him and their eyes locked. “Welcome to the circle. We missed you.”
Megan could hardly breathe. What was he saying to her? Did she misunderstand his relationship with Rhea?
“Welcome home.” Rhea raised her juice, breaking the tension between them. Govannan reached for his drink and they all touched the rim of their glasses together.
“To the completion of the Crystal Matrix Circle,” Rhea exclaimed.
“To the Circle,” Govannan said.
“To the Circle,” Megan murmured, her eyes on him.
“Now, Govannan,” Rhea took command again, “we need to decide where she should begin her education. I have an idea, but I’d like to hear your thoughts.” Megan started to stand up, but Rhea stopped her. “This discussion is for your ears, too, my dear.”
Govannan kept his eyes on Rhea. “She is sensitive, quite perceptive. Her responses are lightening fast.”
“I agree,” the Guild Mistress said, much to Megan’s surprise.
“She needs to learn to hold her own in the midst of all the different energies. The power of the Crystal Matrix Chamber can overwhelm a new worker. She should start with less vital work…seasonal ceremonies, perhaps.” He glanced at Megan. “I think she needs to tour the power spots and do ceremony to experience a wide range of people and places. After, we can begin the special training of our own temple.”
“Exactly so. We usually see eye to eye, my friend.” Rhea turned to Megan. “It is close to Beltane, the change of seasons in the northern isles. I’m going to send you to your mother’s people first.” She reached for her bell and gave it a slight shake. Her assistant came in and stood at attention. “Megan will be leaving for Avalon tomorrow. Please prepare transport.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and left.
“Thuya will help you prepare.” Govannan’s voice reached her in the midst of the swirl of her emotions. She was going to the northern isles. It was a long time dream. She would finally get to visit her mother’s homeland…for Beltane. She would be leaving the only man she wanted to explore those rites with. They said power spots, plural. Would she go elsewhere? When would she come back?
Rhea and Govannan sat beaming at her, looking as if they just gave her the best present possible. Megan looked down at her hands and tried to steady herself. How could he smile at sending her away? She arrived only yesterday. Didn’t he say—what did he say, really? She stood and looked at Rhea, avoiding Govannan’s eyes. “Thank you. I guess I’ll go get ready.”
“Your time will pass quickly, my dear.” Rhea’s face showed she felt Megan’s turmoil. “You will come home prepared for what awaits you here. You have a long life ahead of you.”
Chapter Seven
On Wednesday morning, Michael sat in a pool of gold-tinted sunlight that fell through the stained glass window on the south side of the church. Circles and squares of sky-blue, green, and scarlet decorated the pews and walls. He waited outside until the casket was sealed, not because he was squeamish, but because that was the tradition in his own family: better to remember the person as they were in life. The body was a shell, and Robert was gone…well, not exactly. He still hovered in the upper corner behind the choir, singing at the top of his…voice, Michael supposed, for he no longer possessed lungs in the strictes
t sense. How was it possible to properly mourn his beloved mentor when the man was having such a good time at his own funeral? Michael shifted irritably and scolded himself. Would he prefer Robert to be truly gone, to be simply a memory, as someone said at the wake?
In the family pew, Robert’s wife, Laura, dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. His son sat stiff and proper in his black suit, his own wife clutching his hand. Robert’s daughter held her toddler on her lap. The child kept pointing to the corner that Robert hovered in and saying, “Ga Da,” probably the closest she could come to “granddaddy.” Michael hid a smile behind his hand, grateful for the confirmation.
“Quite a bright light, isn’t she?” Robert sent.
“A chip off the old block,” Michael answered, then half-joked, “Now be quiet so I can hear the hymn.”
Robert snorted, or at least it sounded like he did, and disappeared. He’d be back. He had been popping in and out over the last three days, his mood growing more cheerful and his light brighter with every visit.
Guy discussed it with Michael at the wake the night before. They sat in an outer room away from the family and business acquaintances. “He’s between worlds, tying up loose ends here, connecting with lost friends and family there, preparing for his life review.”
“How do you know?” Michael asked in a low tone.
Guy gave him a sharp glance. “All the books say so.”
“The books,” Michael repeated with mild distain. “I’d rather depend on direct experience.”
Guy continued unperturbed. “He’ll go after the funeral, to conduct his life review and move on to his next work.”
Michael pushed his feet back and forth on the carpet. “So why didn’t I see Thomas?” he asked.
Guy shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t know him well enough.”
He remembered Anne saw her brother shortly after his death, but she hadn’t said anything about it lately. Perhaps what Guy said was true.
Adeline bustled in and joined them. When Guy told her of Michael’s experience, she leaned forward, eager to hear more. “Does he seem disturbed or confused?”
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