“Where is it?” Cagliostro screamed. “Where’s my city?”
The man frowned, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.
This man prevented him from going home once again. Cagliostro launched himself at the culprit, grabbed his throat, and squeezed. The man’s eyes bulged, then his huge hands seized Cagliostro’s forearms and pulled.
Cagliostro lost his grip on the man’s throat. “Where is it?” he demanded.
“What do you want?” Cagliostro flinched when he realized he could suddenly understand.
“I want to go home,” he spit out. “Why do you keep stopping me?”
The man’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Where is your home?”
Cagliostro bellowed his rage. He heard pounding feet, many feet, and the doors of the temple being thrown open. Before anyone even entered the chamber, he threw up a shield at the doorway, then put his opponent in a neck lock and dragged him to the Fire Stone.
“Are you crazy?” the man managed to choke out. “You’ll kill us. You’re going to bring down the whole city.” A tremor snaked through the floor, confirming his words.
“I want to go home,” Cagliostro panted in his ear, emphasizing every word.
The man sagged in his arms, surrendering. “Show me,” he said.
Cagliostro drove the image of his city into his mind. The Tuaoi Stone seemed to sense his desperation, because it flared to life with a hum. The stone softened and Cagliostro dragged the man inside with him.
“Home,” Cagliostro demanded, and the two turned to light. The man glowed blue, which freed him from Cagliostro’s control, but for some reason he cooperated. When they came through into his city, Cagliostro would teach him a lesson he would not forget.
Vision returned. Cagliostro braced himself to see yet another room, but one in the temple of his home city. The tepid light of the three sentinels turned the Caribbean water a sickly green. No. It couldn’t be. “No,” his mind screamed, and he lurched as the crystal shifted.
“Stop it.” The man reached out to touch him. “You must calm down. I’ll help you. I promise to help you.”
Cagliostro pulled him to the edge of the Fire Stone and pushed out first. He grabbed up the mask and oxygen tank he hoped never to see again and took a breath. He held the mask to the man’s face. His eyes darted around wildly and he started to thrash about, but Cagliostro tightened his grip on him. He took another breath from the tank and pushed the mask to the man’s face again. Finally he took a breath. Cagliostro swam with him to the line and slowly they ascended together, breathing in a slow rhythm, sharing the oxygen.
* * * *
Govannan huddled in the cell the stranger threw him in. He tried to clear his mind, but it was like breathing thin air. Something kept him from thinking straight. His captor must have set up some energy field to scramble his ectoplasmic field, or somehow stopped him from shifting to the compatible life form for this system. He rematerialized exactly as he was in Eden, right down to his limp. His stomach growled and his body yearned for water, but neither came. He spent the night on the stone floor, but this morning the one high window showed a tropical blue patch of sky, the color of the sky in Eden. Perhaps he was still on Earth; he had a vision of the Fire Stone lying on its side when he tried to calm it after the first dangerous transport. Where on Earth, though? Who would treat him so badly? The New Knowledge Guild? Did they sink so low as to torture humans now?
When the man grabbed him, he decided to go with him rather than risk bringing all of Eden down on their heads. He hoped he didn’t make a fatal mistake. The stranger was a tangle of contradictory emotions, but his power…Govannan was shocked by his raw power. No wonder he created so much damage. His captor hadn’t visited him since he ordered the other man to lock him in this cell. Govannan had to be patient and wait. If he could clear his mind, he would be able to figure out where he was and what his captor wanted. He straightened his back and chanted, but the stones poked into his buttocks and ankles, making it hard to meditate. He kept it up, but his focus kept drifting. He felt like an apprentice. Worse than an apprentice, in fact.
He smelled it before he heard the footsteps. Water. He stood up to welcome his captor, but it wasn’t the one who dragged him up from the bottom of the ocean, making him breath through that artificial apparatus. Why not just shift to dolphin shape? The man didn’t seem to know how, and Govannan needed to stay with him to try to calm him, to stop him from popping in and out of the Fire Stone and unhinging the Earth’s mantle. He began a terrible chain of events, and it seemed Govannan’s fate to repair the damage. First, he had to understand what was happening. The man who brought him the water was the one who piloted the watercraft and who came close to panic when he saw not one person come out of the water, but two. He still smelled of fear—an old, habitual fear, probably of the man he worked for.
“Thank you. I’m very thirsty.” Govannan took the water from him. The man only shook his head with a frown, not understanding. What was wrong with these people? Where was their translation crystal? Not to mention the boat. It only floated on the water, incapable of diving below it or even of rudimentary flight. Once they reached the shore, they stuffed him in the back of a conveyance with wheels that let out a trail of stinking exhaust.
As he drank, Govannan tried to probe the man’s thoughts, but came up with nothing. His telepathy skills seemed to be gone, although he could still read rudimentary emotions. He finished the bottle and held it out. “May I have more?” he asked. The man frowned and tossed the bottle into a circular metal can behind him, then clanged the door shut and locked it. Govannan watched him leave and studied the padlock, wishing he possessed the skill with metal that he had with crystal. Feeling somewhat better, he sat back down and began a silent chant. Sometimes persistence worked. In this thick atmosphere, it seemed the only hope.
Some time later, a noise roused him. He stretched his legs, trying to get the blood flow back. He never fell asleep in meditation before. The blue patch of sky was replaced by a black patch. A lone star twinkled. He needed to see more stars to figure out his location. The sound of footsteps grew louder, and suddenly light flooded his cell—harsh, white light from a glass globe hanging down from the ceiling by a string. Govannan shielded his eyes with his hand. The same man who brought him water stood outside pointing a dark metallic object at him. A woman came up behind him. She surveyed Govannan with an air of disbelief, then said, “Stand up.”
Govannan blinked in surprised. “You found the crystal?”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I can understand you. You found the translator crystal.”
“Hold out your hands.”
“Why?”
“No more questions,” the man said. “Do as she says.”
Govannan held his hands out from his sides.
“No, in front,” the woman said.
He held his palms straight in front of himself.
“Together,” she snapped, clearly exasperated.
Govannan took a calming breath. “If you would demonstrate, I would be happy to do as you ask.”
“No tricks.” The man waved the metal object at him.
Govannan looked from one to the other, then put his hands closer together. Lightning quick, the woman snapped two metal rings around his wrists. He pulled his hands back and discovered a chain connected the two rings.
“What is the purpose of this device?”
“Shut up. Now move it.” The man waved the metal object again, this time suggesting a direction.
Govannan stepped out of his cell and stood looking at the two.
“You first,” the man said. They walked up the stairs and down a hallway. At the back of the house, windows stood open, letting in a breeze that smelled of flowers, ocean, mold, and exhaust. They continued out the door toward a sma
ller building. Govannan paused to look up. Earth constellations, and spring ones at that, but not quite in the right positions. The smells suggested a warm ocean and tropical flowers. The woman touched a panel and bright lights drowned the stars. Why did they try to light up the night? Maybe they heard the rumors of animal attacks and thought the beasts would be frightened off.
“Keep going.” The man poked him in the back with the metal thing. The woman opened the door of a long black vehicle, another one with wheels sending out a plume of some kind of smoke that made him want to sneeze. “Get in,” the man said.
Govannan stopped. “Where is my host?”
The two burst out laughing. “Host? Get in the car,” the man said.
Govannan turned around. “I’ve complied with your requests only because I agreed to help the man who took me. He asked me to help him find his home. I will not go any farther until I speak with him.”
The man reached out with his left arm, grabbed his throat, and applied precise pressure. The sudden pain made Govannan gag. His eyes watered and he tried to catch his breath. The man held him up by his throat, stuck his face up to his, and said in a quiet, deadly voice, “You will do as I say or suffer the consequences. Do you—”
“Enough,” came a weak voice from inside the vehicle. The man released Govannan. There was a sliding noise, then a familiar face appeared in the open door—the same sharp nose, pale blue eyes, and silver white hair of the man he saw in the crystal. “Please join me…I don’t know your name.”
Govannan stood as straight as he could and introduced himself.
His captor nodded his head and returned the favor. “I am Alexander Cagliostro.” The vibration of this name did not match the man he was looking at. “I’ve waited twenty-four hours and now I can fly again.” This made no sense at all, although he did look ill. “I am taking you home.”
Govannan’s eyebrows lifted. “You have found your home, then. I am happy for you.”
Cagliostro turned a vivid red and started to cough. When he recovered, he said, “Not my real home, idiot. The house I’ve been using.”
The man holding the metal object gave Govannan a shove, so he got into the vehicle. “This craft can fly, then?”
Cagliostro’s forehead wrinkled. “No, not this one. We’re driving to the jet.”
“You have different conveyances for water, land, and air?”
“Of course.” Cagliostro studied him a moment. “You don’t in Atlantis?”
“You know the name of my home?” Govannan sat forward eagerly.
“Everyone knows about Atlantis,” he said. “Most of them just don’t believe in it.”
Govannan took a breath to ask what he meant, but Cagliostro held up his hand. “Enough. We’ll talk once we’ve arrived.”
Govannan ducked his head. “As you wish. I am your guest.”
The guard snorted. Cagliostro shot him a threatening look, and he subsided.
As it turned out, Govannan was glad his host asked for silence, because truly, he would not have be able to hold a thought in his head while watching the amazing sights unfold outside the window. Cagliostro watched his reactions in a sort of exhausted fascination. Bright lights on tall poles pushed back the night. Outside the boxy buildings, other lights burned. These people must have developed a permanent dread of animals. Could the rumors of the attacks be true?
The black streets divided the town in rectangles, and not golden mean rectangles either. As far as he could tell, these people abandoned geometrical symmetry. As soon as he got used to the pattern, it changed again, and they drove onto white streets with tiny lanes created by lines on the pavement. The long black vehicle picked up speed, and the hum of the wheels filled the silent compartment. Other vehicles whizzed by. They didn’t care much about safety, but his host amply demonstrated that by the way he misused the Crystal Matrix Chamber. More bright lights appeared, so many he knew they were not to keep the animals at bay. Could it be these people could no longer see in the dark?
Long strips of metal divided a field from the street. A man with an even longer metal object opened a gap in the metal and they went through. The vehicle entered a squat metallic building and stopped. Didn’t these people know that artificial material obstructed the proper flow of energy? The guard waved at him to get out. They walked toward a graceful white vehicle with wings like a bird. They tried to imitate wings in order to fly. The Sirians were right; consciousness fell dramatically.
Once they were situated on what these people called the plane, his host explained that he was going to sleep. “I recommend you do the same.” He closed the door of his tiny room, and the man who guarded him showed Govannan into a similar compartment.
“I’m locking you in, but I’ll be right outside. Don’t try anything.” He waved the metal object at him again. He seemed quite fond of it. He closed the door and Govannan heard a click. Another lock, he assumed. He lay down on the hard cot and closed his eyes, reminding himself he was here voluntarily and there was no sense in escaping; Cagliostro would just return to the Tuaoi Stone, and this time he might rip a hole in the world that could not be fixed. The enormous noise of the engines hurt Govannan’s ears. The vehicle rolled off, gathered speed, and seemed to launch itself into the air with an ungodly roar. The ride smoothed out. He sat up, expecting to arrive any moment, but they stayed in the air for such a long time that he did eventually drop off to sleep. He dreamed of Megan and the simple joys of swimming on Sirius, and of the more delightful pleasures they experienced on the Pleiades.
* * * *
Megan streamed through the stars, a blaze of blue light, reveling in the freedom, the infinite possibilities of the One. She couldn’t agree with her mother, however; she would rather be making love with Govannan. Even so, the trip was over too quickly. Already she was thickening into corporeal form, but something new began to manifest along with her, a speck of light she didn’t notice before, a nascent consciousness nestled within her womb. The Grand Matriarch’s last words replayed in her memory. “Bless you, child.” She was pregnant.
Before she could take this in, she gulped in air and felt damp rock beneath her feet. She didn’t come back through the body of a crystal, she manifested directly into the world unmediated. How could that be possible?
“The Tor itself is a portal, if handled properly.”
Megan jumped, surprised by the voice filling the cavern. The Lady of Avalon stepped forward and handed Megan a robe. She spotted several other priestesses in the shadows of the cave. “You didn’t think we’d let you transport alone, did you?” the Lady asked.
“I…I didn’t even know…” Megan gestured to the cave around her, noticing small sentinels set at intervals around the wall. As her senses returned, she became aware of an underlying tension in the women, even fear. She tried to catch The Lady’s eyes, but she looked away. “What’s wrong?”
The Lady only shook her head. She turned and the priestesses filed out of the cave on silent feet. There was no energetic residue to soothe after this transport, no Fire Stone to sing back to sleep. The Earth simply swallowed the waves of energy, returning to balance. Megan gave the chamber one last glance. A rounded black stone stood in the darkness, pulsing with a deep note. It pulled at her to come back, but a hand slipped into hers, and she found Thalana by her side.
“It’s good to have you back,” her friend whispered.
“What’s happened?” Megan kept her voice low, but the Lady shushed them. Ever obedient, Thalana fell back and they walked single file through a dark tunnel. The sound of water soon reached Megan’s ears, and they came to a fork, the same one she found on Samhain, except from the direction she did not explore that night. Now she knew where it led—into the heart of the Tor and to the black omphalos stone. The Lady took the path toward the outside, still leading the priestesses in single file. The tension seemed laced with gr
ief.
Megan shivered in the damp night air. She wished the Lady brought a wool cloak, but she would find something once she returned to the dormitory. The Lady dismissed them and turned toward the vigil hut, and the rest broke into conversation as soon as her back was turned. Thalana told Megan all the news as they walked through the night. Inside the dormitory, the other apprentices joined in, but Megan kept nodding off. “I’m going to bed,” she announced.
“You haven’t told us what happened in Atlantis,” Thalana complained.
Megan smiled like a Sphinx. “Tomorrow.”
The next morning at breakfast, she held everyone in awe as she narrated her trip to the Star Elders’ worlds. She spoke about swimming as a dolphin, about the tall Crystal People, about meeting her distant relatives on the home world of the Seven Sisters. They seemed distant relatives to her, although they said otherwise. She thought it was the difference in their life spans. She held back the news of her pregnancy; she wanted Govannan to be the first to know.
It surprised her how easily she fell back into the routine of classes and chores. No rituals were scheduled for a time. She had been back a few days when the Lady of Avalon asked to see her after the evening meal. Megan made her way up the meadow through the fence to the stand of yew trees where the Lady waited.
Without another word of explanation, the Lady of Avalon led her once again to the small vigil hut near Red Spring. They paused at the oak door and the Lady knocked softly before pushing it open. Megan walked into the stifling hut. Her eyes, used to the growing darkness outside, found the low table, but not the Morgen sitting behind it. At the side of the room, the lead healer bent over a smoking fire, stirring something in the three-legged cauldron. A bundle in the corner stirred. “Anne?”
The healer and the Lady exchanged a glance. “No, it’s Megan,” the Lady said.
The Morgen rose from her nest of blankets, her wrinkled face grim with pain. Her blue eyes looked on this world tonight, and she stretched her withered hand out. “Come closer, child.”
Beneath the Hallowed Hill Page 31