Beneath the Hallowed Hill

by Theresa Crater

  “It’s not catching,” the healer whispered. Nodding, Megan stepped up to the bed.

  “Sit,” the old woman said, then turned to the Lady. “Can’t you make it warmer?”

  The healer poured some liquid into a mug and brought it to the old woman. “This will warm you.” She held it for her as she drank.

  She is human after all, Megan thought, not fae.

  After she took her medicine, the Morgen caught her ragged breath and watched Megan for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. “I will be leaving this world soon. My era is passing.”

  Megan began to protest and a tiny sob escaped the Lady.

  The Morgen ignored them both. “It has come upon me suddenly, although I’ve felt the changes creeping up on us these last years.” She stopped a moment to catch her breath, then pointed her bony finger at Megan’s abdomen. “The child you’ve carried to us from the Pleiades, she will take my place. I have waited for her a long time.”

  Megan’s hand moved to cover her stomach unbidden.

  “Not before another, however.” She gestured toward the Lady, meaning she would be the next Morgen. “You are not fated for this world.” She inclined her head toward Megan, then closed her eyes again and stayed silent so long, Megan thought she fell asleep…or left them. What did she mean, ”not fated for this world?” Would she die giving birth? Return to the stars with Govannan? Live hundreds of years by his side enjoying the glories of the Seven Sisters? She could never leave her child behind.

  The healer crept up and passed her open palm over the front of the Morgen’s body then moved back, satisfied she still lived. At long last, the crone opened her eyes again and said in an eerily conversational tone, “How is our family in the stars? Do they still live in glorious homes? Dress in the softest silks? Eat the most delicious foods? Have I embellished my memories, embroidered imaginings while I sat here guarding this crossroad?”

  Megan leaned forward and touched the Morgen’s hand. “It is as beautiful as you remember.” It frightened her to see this legend’s frailty.

  The Morgen chuckled, which led to a cough. Once she caught her breath, she said, “I am truly flesh and blood, my dear. It is but the mantle of the office you saw before.” As if the mere mention of this power were enough to summon it, the old woman suddenly straightened, her eyes clouded in a blink, and her strong voice filled the room. “Go to Eden and save the sentinels. Shut down the Tuaoi Stone so it may pass the coming darkness in safety.” Her voice rose almost to a shout. “Hurry before it is too late.” She sank back into the nest of blankets.

  The Lady took Megan by the arm and pulled her up. They moved toward the door, but Megan hung back. “I’ve only just returned.”

  The Lady hurried down from the vigil hut toward the yews, Megan in tow. A figure separated itself from the shadows and approached them. The Lady whispered something in her ear and she took off at a run. “The priestesses will be here soon,” the lady told Megan. “Sit by the well. It will give you peace.”

  Megan thought she should say goodbye and pack something for the trip, but the notion was ridiculous, of course. She sat by the well, trying to quiet the tumult in her heart.

  Once the priestesses assembled, they formed a line and began to chant as they walked through the mist to the opening of the cave. As the line wound into the Tor, their lovely voices seemed to light the night and soothe Megan’s fear.

  When they entered the chamber, the Lady took Megan forward. No hint of grief or weariness hung about her now. “Do not fear. Your child will be safe.”

  “Thank you.” Tears welled in Megan’s eyes. She only learned of the baby a few days before and already she felt the protectiveness of a mother.

  “Now, take your place in the center of the chamber. The transport will be just as it is in any Crystal Matrix Temple. After all, this is the Crystal Cave.”

  Megan glanced around, but saw only dark stone and no trace of the magnificent display of radiance and color in the ceiling over the lake. The glint from the sentinels was the only light in this chamber. Here she was tucked in the womb of the Dark Mother, just as her new child was tucked into hers.

  The Lady took her robe and squeezed her hand, then stepped back to her place on the wall. The chant deepened and built in layers of intricate harmony. The energy grew intense, as if it was too large to contain, but the final surge did not come. Megan remained standing, naked and confused, in the middle of the cave. The chant quieted and finally stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  The priestesses looked to their leader, waiting for her to speak. The Lady lifted her head. Silver tears reflected in the dim light. “The Tuaoi Stone is no longer safe. They cannot receive you.”

  Megan stepped forward, but the priestesses still stood silent, waiting.

  The Lady took a long, shuddering breath, then proclaimed, “The Morgen is dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The old Megan stared into the fire, wondering what the Morgen meant those many years ago. Not fated for this world? She was wrong about that. Megan spent long years in Avalon tending the crossroads, so long that she too wondered if she had imagined the glories of the worlds of the Star Elders or even the wonders of Atlantis. She drew a breath to continue her story, but it triggered another bout of coughing that shook her body like a tree in a windstorm. Old. She was the same age Govannan was when they made their child, Caitir, who sat before her now on the verge of replacing her, trying to be brave. The cough died down and Megan waited for enough breath to finish the story. Not only did she share the old Morgen’s fate, she was dying of the same disease. The damp took its toll.

  She took a breath and pressed on. “The Lady sent word that we needed a ship, but my cousin Demos came walking over the crest of the hill a day later saying that he needed to go home, too. We flew back in his silver craft, the work of only a few hours in those days, and he told me what he knew.”

  * * * *

  “Earthquakes. Someone misused the Crystal Matrix Chamber and set off a series of earthquakes.”

  “Misused? What do you mean? Who would do a thing like that?”

  “They don’t know.”

  “Can’t they stop the quakes?” Megan asked.

  “They’ve sent to Al Khem for help. The Great Pyramid is even more powerful than the Fire Stone. It should be able to stabilize the crust.”

  Megan pulled her wool cloak tight around her shoulders, even though the sun grew stronger as they flew south.

  “There’s more. The New Knowledge Guild is on trial.”

  “Trial?”

  “They’re being questioned by the Prince himself. I heard Merope sat in.”

  “Questioned about what?”

  Demos stared out at the empty sky.

  “Tell me. I’m not a child anymore.”

  “No one can believe it.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Apparently they’ve experimented on some animals. It was torture, really.”

  “What?” Megan’s heart gave a lurch. “That’s—”

  “Impossible,” he finished for her. “Seems this will be the age of the impossible.”

  Megan hugged herself, trying to push away the images that came unbidden to her mind. She watched Demos for a while. “You’ve heard about that, too?”

  “What?” He glanced at her and then back at his gauges.

  “We’re entering a new time.”

  He nodded. “That’s why I’m going home, to be with my family.”

  Megan stared through the window down at the water below. Her hand moved to cover her abdomen. “What will become of us?”

  “Oh, now,” Demos put strength in his voice. “The world is still a beautiful place.”

  Megan gave him a weak smile.

  This did not seem to satisfy him. Demos pointed the craft do
wn, a touch of the scamp he was returning, and they plummeted toward the water. Megan screamed when they sliced through the surface, and let go of the armrest when he straightened out.

  “Honestly,” she said, but didn’t have the heart to scold him. They moved through the turquoise ocean lit with filtered sunlight. Soon their presence attracted a pod of curious dolphins that swam along beside them. Megan watched their grey, sleek bodies and remembered the sensation of gliding through the water, of rocketing upward, breeching the surface and leaping through the air. She pressed her palm against the glass and smiled. “You’re right. The world is still a beautiful place.”

  Demos dropped her off at the Crystal Guild Headquarters. “You’re sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asked.

  “No, but thank you for the ride.” She picked up her bag from the back and stepped away. “Let me know what you hear,” she called. Demos waved goodbye and lifted into the air.

  That’s when the next quake hit. The ground lurched and Megan fell, luckily landing on her bag full of clothes rather than the hard pavement stones. People came running from the garage and the guild headquarters, making toward the Crystal Matrix Chamber. She grabbed her bag and followed, but the Earth did not cooperate. It bucked again. People fell, then picked themselves up and staggered across the shifting ground.

  The temple was filled with knots of people milling around. Megan made her way through the crowd to the first circle of stones in the Matrix Chamber. Above the din of raised voices, the Tuaoi Stone screeched. Megan stopped dead. All along the base of the crystal, new cracks appeared. Light bounced around at odd angles. The stone still resonated from a transport, but its song made Megan’s head ache and her stomach threaten to turn over. She searched the throng for the Matrix pod workers and finally spotted Ianara, who stood on one side of the inner circle trying to get the crowd’s attention. No one was listening. The buzz of the towering crystal grew more dissonant, which seemed to fuel the chaos.

  Daphyll ran in, her hair flying behind her, her eyes wide. Herasto arrived on her heels. The floor shook, knocking many people down, but the two pod members made their way to Ianara, who pointed for them to take their places in the circle. She spotted Megan and elbowed her way through the crowd. “Take your station,” she shouted above the din. “We have to calm the Fire Stone or it may break apart.”

  “I’m not trained.”

  Ianara took her by the shoulders and looked into her face. “Trust your instincts. You’ll know what to do.”

  “Where’s Govannan?” Megan asked, but Ianara had turned back already and didn’t hear.

  Another quake hit, and the Fire Stone swayed. People screamed. Some ran, staggering, out of the temple. Ianara started a chant. Megan strained to hear, but she couldn’t pick it out from the clamor of human voices and the ear-wrenching sounds coming from the crystals. She closed her eyes, trying to do as the Lady of Avalon taught her and find her ground of silence. Finally she succeeded. She stretched her senses toward the other pod workers, attempting to connect with them.

  A new quiver ran through the floor and the Fire Stone groaned. Megan’s eyes flew open. The crystal rocked back and forth in its base, the tip coming within inches of crashing through the selenite ceiling. A new crack ran through the giant stone, making a sickening popping sound. More people fled the chamber, screaming about an attack. The racket subsided enough for Megan to hear the calming chant rising from the three intrepid Matrix Chamber workers, as incongruous as a lullaby on a battlefield. At first Megan matched Daphyll’s part, until the pattern began to sound in her head and she found her own harmonic. Rhea arrived, wild-eyed, and took another spot in the circle. More matrix workers found their way through the chaos into the temple, and others came who Megan knew worked in different specialties. They joined in, each matching the sounds of one of the pod workers, reinforcing the chant.

  They sang and sang, shifting their tones to neutralize, to calm, to heal the Earth and the wailing Tuoai Stone. As the group synergy built, Megan could see in her mind the temples along the spiraling grid that culminated at this spot. Some swayed and bucked, others were empty of energy, like dried grass in autumn. The group worked to bring peace once more, but as the afternoon turned to night, it became clear that their efforts would only bring them a brief respite. The damage ran too deep. The red core of the Earth ran fingers of molten rock up through the deepening cracks. The volcanoes of Atlantis began to leak fire. The city trembled. In parts of Eden, buildings with wood began to smoke, then caught fire and burned; the stone ones cracked and fell.

  Megan swayed where she stood, chanting, yearning for water…and for Govannan. Where was he? He never came. Was he safe? Was he injured in the quake somewhere? Her mind merged into the ritual once more, and she lost track of her individual wants and needs for a while, the energy of the group feeding and sustaining her. Some time late in the night, she became aware of Thuya whispering in her ear. “Come back, now. Come to my voice.”

  Megan looked at the old woman, her mind a blank, her every muscle aching, her heart broken. “Where is he, Thuya? Why has he abandoned us?”

  “Rhea says you are to rest now. You mustn’t risk your baby.”

  “He doesn’t even know.” Tears ran down Megan’s face.

  Thuya put her arm around her waist. “Lean on me.” Someone slipped into Megan’s place and the chant continued.

  The Egyptian woman led her up the hill to the villa, still safe from the quakes and fires, at least for the moment. She listened to Megan weep and sang little nonsense verses to her, reassuring her that all would be well, that Govannan would be found, as if Megan were the baby instead of pregnant with one. Thuya took her into the water room, stripped off her clothes, and bathed her. She held her head above water and massaged her limbs, Megan passive beneath her nurturing hands. She wrapped her in a soft, warm blanket, led her down the hall, and sat her on a bed. Megan recognized the pillows she brought from her childhood home—only half a year ago, but it felt like ages. Thuya put a cup up to her mouth and told her to drink. Megan sputtered when the bitter herbs hit her tongue.

  “Drink it down,” Thuya said.

  The medicine stole into Megan’s battered heart and quieted it.

  “Now sleep. In the morning, we will find the Matrix Master, then you can tell him your news.”

  Megan did sleep, and finally so did the Earth…for a time.

  * * * *

  Megan woke the next morning to a quiet Earth, but no Govannan, so she started to search for him. Everyone in the villa slept except sturdy Thuya. Megan found her in one of the classrooms, putting the crystals right. “Has anyone found Govannan?” she asked.

  “I haven’t seen him or heard any news.” Thuya straightened up, massaging her back. “The others came in just a couple of hours ago. We can ask them this afternoon. Let them sleep now.”

  “Have you rested?” Megan asked.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Thuya said.

  “Can I help you?”

  Thuya chuckled. “Go look for him. You won’t be any good until you’ve found him.”

  Relieved, Megan went to an empty classroom and sat with a rather large rutilated smoky quartz in her lap to reinforce her vision. She stretched her senses over the city as far as she could, hunting for Govannan’s energy signature. She got up and went out on the streets where chaos reigned. Some areas of the city lay in rubble, others were pristine. Shopkeepers shifted through debris, trying to assess the damage. Families moved rocks and lifted fallen beams, trying to set things right, some searching for lost loved ones. Maybe Govannan was hurt and was taken to be healed. She found her way to the Healing Temple. Crowds of people with crushed limbs, broken bones, and shattered hearts filled the benches and spilled over across the floor. Megan spotted Pleione just inside a large room where patients lay waiting.

  Her mother ran and grabbed
her up. “You’re safe. Oh, thank the gods.”

  Megan returned the hug, trying not to cry.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “The Morgen sent me.” Before she could explain, someone came up and asked Pleione a question. Megan saw another healer hovering, waiting for her mother’s attention. “Have you seen Govannan?” She asked before they could be interrupted again.

  “He’s not at the Temple?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him since I arrived yesterday. I was out looking for him.”

  “See if you can contact his mother’s house. Some of the communication screens are still working.”

  A healer came running up. “They’re bringing in the survivors from the north market.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Pleione turned to Megan. “Go back to your temple. The city isn’t safe. I’ll come when I have time.” She ran off to see about the new patients.

  Megan made her way back to the Crystal Guild, realizing only later that she didn’t tell her mother the one piece of good news. Back in her room, she found Govannan’s family listed in the computer files. They lived in the mountains of the Evaemona district, but she wasn’t able to get through nor could she find any news about the conditions in that region. It contained one of the largest volcanoes on Atlantis. Half the communications net was down, and the quakes knocked out some of the energy stations, so flying was no longer safe. Suddenly, an emergency announcement flashed on the screen. Rhea called a meeting.

  People packed the room when Megan arrived, filling the seats and leaning against the walls, so she stood at the edge away from the other Crystal Matrix workers, her eyes scanning the crowd for Govannan. Maybe he would come in with the Guild Mistress, but Rhea walked on stage without him. A line of area heads followed her slight figure. Govannan was not with them either.

  “Where is he?” Megan whispered to herself.

  “Missing someone?” a woman standing next to her asked.