Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles)

by Wright, Natalie

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to be sarcastic with you. My aunt always tells me that I have an awful mouth.”

  “There is nothing awful about you, daughter of Brighid. It is your lack of training that is awful,” he said.

  “Training?”

  “You have reached the age of fourteen Beltane fires, have you not?”

  “Well I don’t know anything about Beltane, but I’m fourteen years old,” I said.

  “Then you are four years late for the start of your training. But there is no time to waste. We must start now. You are the last in the lineage of the Order of Brighid. You are the only one with the powers to defeat Dughall the Dark One, but you require training,” Hindergog said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And that is truly strange since you are a figment of my imagination, you’d think I’d know what my own imagination is talking about,” I said.

  “Daughter of Brighid, I am not of your imagination.”

  “Then you are real?”

  “Real? What is real? In your world, you are all about this ‘real’. That is quite the wrong question you know.”

  “Now I’m getting thoroughly confused. Well, whether you’re real or not, you seem kind, and I could use a friend, so it’s nice to meet you Hindergog,” I said. I reached my hand out to shake his.

  But when I reached for his hand, my hand went right through him. He wasn’t flesh and blood after all.

  “So you are a figment. Too bad,” I said.

  “In my world, I am quite ‘real’ as you say. But I can only come to you in this form through the use of the Crystals of Alsted. I am, what in your world might be called a ‘hologram’,” said Hindergog. “A projection of sorts.”

  “Where is your body then?”

  “My body resides in another realm called the Netherworld. In your world, it is called another dimension. My body cannot travel to your realm without damage so I must meet with you this way.”

  “Are you serious? So you’re using some sort of cosmic telephone?”

  “I don’t know this ‘telephone’ of which you speak. Please listen child of Brighid, as I do not have much time. It took what in your world would be several hundred years to collect the amount of crystals needed to project myself to you. I should have about one hour of your time, but no more. And I have much to tell you as you have had no prior education in these things.”

  Just then I heard Jake and Fanny talking to each other down below. They were at our meeting place, the tree, just like we’d planned.

  “Wait a minute little dude,” I told Hindergog as I crawled on my knees over to the opening of the house. “Hey guys – up here,” I whispered to Jake and Fan. They both came over to the ladder that led up the tree.

  “What ‘ya doin’ up there?” asked Fanny.

  “You’ll find out in a minute. Get up here. But listen, when you get up here, don’t scream.”

  Jake and Fanny looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders but were totally silent as they climbed up. Jake came first. I could see his spiky blond hair and coke-bottle glasses when he reached the top. As soon as his eyes cleared the top rung, he gasped. He didn’t say a word and he didn’t scream, but it looked like he stopped breathing altogether.

  Fanny was right behind Jake, her dark curly hair contained under a ball cap. When she got to the top, she let out a soft cry of surprise and then quickly caught herself and covered her mouth with her hand. She climbed in too and Jake was on one side of Fanny and me on the other. All three of us sat there silently and stared at the creature. When Hindergog broke the silence, all three of us jumped a little.

  “Daughter of Brighid, who are these others? This will not do. My message is for you alone.”

  “First of all, stop calling me Daughter of Brighid. My name is Emily, and if you want to talk to me, you can get my name right.”

  “Yes, as you wish, daughter of, I mean. . . Emily.”

  “Second, this is Jake, and this is Fanny. They are my two best friends and anything you want to say to me, you need to say to them, too.”

  “Oh, Mistress Emily, I do not have time to argue the point. This is likely to cause severe problems. But my time grows ever shorter and with so much to tell. . .” His voice trailed off. He looked like he was thinking and he looked plenty worried.

  “So be it, they can stay. But listen well, all of you, as I have much to tell you.”

  “What is this. . .thing and why is it here?” asked Jake.

  “His name is Hindergog,” I said. “And I have no idea what he is or why he’s here. He says he’s a holographic projection from another dimension.”

  “Shut up!” said Fanny.

  “Please hear me humans of fourteen Beltane fires,” Hindergog pled. “I will tell you all that you are required to know. And when I am done, the one who calls herself Emily must be prepared for her journey to the Sacred Grove.”

  “Emily, you’re leaving?” asked Jake.

  “I wasn’t planning on it Jake. I have no idea what the hell this little dude is talking about.”

  “I ask your patience Younglings,” Hindergog pled. “It is most urgent for all of you, and all in your world, that Emily, descendant of my Saorla, last High Priestess of the Order of Brighid, learn of her heritage and of her destiny.”

  “This sounds heavy, Em,” said Jake.

  “What are you talking about Hindergog? What destiny?” I asked.

  “Miss Emily, you know of your own unique abilities.”

  “What’s he talking about?” asked Jake.

  I felt squirmy. I didn’t say a word and Jake and Fanny were both staring at me, waiting for me to explain what the little alien guy was talking about.

  “Spill it Adams,” commanded Fanny.

  “Look, it’s nothing spectacular or anything. It’s just that. . .well, I have these visions – like seeing the future.”

  “GET OUT!” shouted Fanny.

  “Shh, Muriel,” I warned as I put a finger to my lips.

  “But there is more to it than that young one, much more,” Hindergog said.

  “More? You can do more than see the future?” queried Jake.

  “Oh crapballs! I so didn’t want anyone to know this stuff,” I said as I tried to weasel out of talking about it. The three of them stared at me in silence, and it was clear that Jake and Fanny weren’t going to let me out of this.

  “Alright, here’s the thing. When I was little I could hear what my mom was thinking, okay. It was like a radio station playing in my head. I only had that with her, and when she died, her radio station went off the air permanently. Now I don’t even get static.”

  “And. . .” said Fanny.

  “And?”

  “You said you could see the future. What’s up with that?” asked Jake.

  “I don’t know. Look, I hate talking about this.”

  “Have you seen my future?” asked Fanny. “Am I like a famous sports figure?”

  “No, Fanny, I haven’t seen your future. I haven’t seen anyone’s future, not since. . .”

  “Since what Em?” asked Jake.

  “Since my mom died.”

  The crowded little house was silent. The only sound was the low drone of Hindergog’s cosmic telephone. Sometimes it seemed like it was more painful retelling it than it was going through it in the first place.

  “You saw your mom die?” asked Jake.

  “What do you think she saw nub – fluffy bunnies and flowers?” said Fanny.

  “Yes Jake, I had a vision, and I saw my mom die. I was holding her hand one day and there it was, just like a movie in my mind’s eye. I saw her hooked up to machines and saw her eyes sunken into her drawn, pale face, and I saw her take her last breath.”

  “Good job Jake, making Emily go through that,” said Fanny as she rubbed my back and glared at Jake.

  “It’s okay Fanny, really.”

  “Sorry Em, I didn’t mean to make you sad,” said Jake. “I’m thick I guess.
You saw that one vision, and then it just stopped?”

  “Well, sort of. I started to have another vision. With Greta.”

  “Greta!” said Fanny. “What the hell?”

  “Remember my first day back to school after my mom died?”

  “Who could forget it? You ran out of the school like a maniac. I never did understand what that was about,” said Fanny.

  “Well it was about Greta. She came up to me and was saying she was sorry about my mom – blah, blah, blah – and she put her hand on my shoulder all sincere like. But that turned on my T.V. receptor, and I started to see a vision of the future - Greta’s future. I screamed for her to get her hand off me, and I ran. I didn’t want to see what that movie was about. Bought myself a trip to the guidance counselor.”

  “That’s when Greta started calling you ‘Freak Girl’ and being mean to you,” said Fanny. The puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for her.

  “Yep.”

  “I guess you don’t rebuff Greta-the-Charming without consequences,” said Jake. “Now I get why you don’t play sports and try to avoid. . .”

  “Being touched. Yeah, I don’t want to see anyone die.”

  “There is more Miss Emily, so much more,” said Hindergog.

  The little blabbermouth.

  “More than seeing the future?” asked Jake.

  I didn’t want to say anymore. I’d already had to spill enough. But Fanny wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Out with it Em,” demanded Fanny.

  “I can move things with my mind too,” I said.

  “You cannot!” said Jake.

  “Yep, I can.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said.

  “Show us Em,” said Fanny excitedly.

  “I’m not a show dog!”

  “Oh, come on. Show us,” she whined.

  I hadn’t seen visions in a while, but I continued to use my telekinesis, at least in the privacy of my own room. I knew better than to let Muriel know about these ‘special abilities’ as Hindergog called them. The cat was out of the bag with Fanny and Jake. Why not show them so they stop bugging me about it?

  I stared at Jake’s backpack that he’d flung down. I concentrated on wanting the backpack, and it slowly raised then floated through the air right to me.

  Silence filled the space between us. My heart raced, and my palms started to sweat. This was it, the moment I had dreaded. Now that Fanny and Jake knew my secret, they’d know for certain what a colossal freak I was. Their stunned silence and gaping mouths said it all.

  Finally, Jake broke the silence. “THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT! I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

  “Coolest-thing-ever! Do it again,” squealed Fanny like a little girl.

  “Younglings, we do not have time for Miss Emily to do any more tricks. My time is short, and I have much to tell - much for Miss Emily to learn - before she sets off on a journey to her destiny.”

  “Why do I have to go on a journey, and to where? What destiny are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Miss Emily, there is an ancient evil – a dark one – set on a path that will lead to the destruction of your world. He lived in the time of your ancient ancestor, my mistress Saorla, the last High Priestess of the Order of Brighid. He is responsible for. . .”

  Hindergog paused. His face looked pinched, and a tear was in his eye.

  “Go on Hindergog. What was he responsible for?”

  “This evil one, Dughall, was responsible for the end of the Order of Brighid. He is in human form once more, and if he succeeds with his plan, it will likely destroy your world.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you talking about? Is he, like, reincarnated? And destroy our world? How?” asked Jake.

  “I know you have many questions Younglings, and I will answer these questions by telling you a story. I am a bard and keeper of the sacred stories of the Order of Brighid. Please humans, rest easy as I tell you all that you need to know.”

  “I gotta' hear this,” said Fanny.

  “We’ll listen Hindergog,” I said.

  “Yeah, we got nothin’ better to do,” said Fanny.

  “Except algebra,” said Jake.

  “Shh,” Fanny and I both said at once.

  Hindergog took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them slowly.

  “Listen well younglings as the tale I have to tell is an important one. The tale is of my most beloved mistress and of Miss Emily’s ancestor. Some of it will be difficult for me, as I must tell you of a terrific battle and of the tragedy that lead to the last days of the Order of Brighid. Please do not interrupt so that I may say all that I must say before my time here is gone.”

  The three of us settled in, all our eyes on the hologram Hindergog as he began his story.

  3. Saorla

  Like all Priestesses of the Order of Brighid before her, Saorla left her home when she was ten and entered the Sacred Grove. After much training, lessons and hard work, Saorla took her place as the High Priestess of the Order of Brighid.

  But it was a difficult time for the Order of Brighid. Much change came to ancient Ireland, the fair land of Tara. Because it was an island and well protected by its fearsome Celtic warriors, the ancient ways survived on the Emerald Isle far longer than in most of Europe. But in Saorla’s time powerful invaders came from the south with large armies and ships.

  More powerful than the soldiers and their weapons were the ways of thinking the newcomers brought with them. The newcomers prayed to one male god rather than to the many gods both male and female of Saorla’s ancestors. The Druidic ways were being lost.

  The raiders wiped out whole villages. Those that survived adapted to the new ways in order to avoid scrutiny, ridicule or worse – death to them or their family.

  All over fair Tara the old ways were forgotten. Priests replaced the Druids. Nuns replaced priestesses. Saorla’s Samhein became ‘All Hollow’s Eve’ – your Halloween. Alban Arthuan became the day of their god’s birth, Christmas. Imolc became the day of their god’s death and resurrection, Easter.

  “I didn’t know that those holidays existed before Christians,” interrupted Fanny.

  “Yes, most of what you humans celebrate today existed in the ancient world. None of it is new. You just rename it from time to time. Now listen.”

  Saorla’s most crucial job as High Priestess was to protect the golden torc, an object imbued with immense power. The torc was forged in the first days of the Order, in the time of the Great Pyramids, by faerie hands in service to the Goddess. From the start, it was blessed with magical power and wrapped while still warm around the upper arm of the first High Priestess of the Order. It was then passed from High Priestess to High Priestess, each time imbued with the energy and magic of the wearer. Over the millennia, it became a most powerful object indeed.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “A 'torc?' What’s that?” I asked Hindergog.

  “Ah, that’s right. Humans no longer wear them much. A torc is a piece of jewelry, usually worn around the neck but sometimes worn by warriors around their upper arms. The craftsman would twist many thin wires of precious metal around each other to form a ring that could be worn. The Torc of Brighid, worn by the High Priestess of the Order for millennia, was made of the purest gold.”

  Saorla’s other role as High Priestess was to be the highest-ranking advisor to the High King of Tara. Because she had the sight, she used her visions to alert the king to any plots against him or his lands.

  But by Saorla’s time, few even knew that the Order of Brighid existed. The Order had been held secret by so many for so long in order to protect it that there were few to believe it existed. The Order of Brighid and the Sacred Grove were relegated to myth.

  While Saorla was the highest and most trusted advisor to the King, Saorla’s most trusted advisor was Cathaír. Cathaír was the liaison between the High Priestess and the King. Cathaír was also charged with the du
ty to protect the Sacred Grove and the Order of Brighid from outsiders. Cathaír was, in fact, the only living human man to know of the exact location of the Sacred Grove.

  “You mean no men lived there at all?” asked Jake.

  “That’s right. And once a young girl was inducted into the Order, she never left the Sacred Grove again.”

  “So they were like nuns!” said Fanny.

  “Holy crap, man, are you saying that Emily has to become a nun?” asked Jake.

  “Settle yourselves. Times, of course, are different now. There is no order anymore. Please listen as you learn what happened.”

  One day Saorla summoned Cathaír to her.

  “Cathaír, you must ride to the King at once. I have foreseen an army, large in numbers, and with a most fierce leader. They plan to invade our fair land in the coming months.”

  “I trust your vision my Priestess, but we have survived many invaders in the past. I will tell the High King, and he will raise his armies to protect our fair land.”

  “This invader is different, Cathaír. He is fork-tongued and will promise much to those who follow him. And I have foreseen a plot, most terrible, against the King himself.”

  “Then I will ride to the King at once and tell him what you have foreseen.”

  “Cathaír, there is more. But this you must not tell the King.”

  “What is it? What have you seen?”

  “I have seen. . . I have seen a dark invader here, Cathaír. Here at the Sacred Grove.”

  “No, that is impossible. The protections are too strong. An army of men would never see the walls. Even if they did, the enchantments that have protected it for thousands of years will hold. And of course there is Lianhan Sídhe. She will not let any man enter. And if anyone did manage to find the gate, let alone get past Lianhan Sídhe and get in, Madame Wong would dice them to pieces!”

  “Yes I know Cathaír, it seems impossible. I don’t know how it will happen. . . I wish that I did. I only know what I saw. A dark haired man with a large army will enter through the gates of our beloved Grove.”

  “Your gift of sight is most powerful, your Highness, but I hope for the sake of Tara that it is off this time.”

  “I do too, Cathaír. I do too.”