“You must use your power, you must! It is the only way! Do it!” he yelled. He removed his foot and knelt down on one knee so we were face to face. He shook my shoulders so hard my teeth rattled. I tasted the saltiness of blood in my mouth.
“If you don’t, the only choice I have will be to kill you. You are my only grandchild. I don’t want to do this. Please use your power.”
I was weeping now. It annoyed him, he slapped me and pain once again seared through my throbbing jaw. I felt the blood boil in my veins as the sting crept up my cheek.
“Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you make demands! You murdered my grandmother you bastard! She was all I had, so go ahead, kill me. I don’t give a damn!” His grip tightened; his fingers dug into my shoulders and I saw the fury surge through him, spreading like poison.
“So be it! Κυριαρχία!” he roared into the thunderous heavens.
He lifted me up as though I weighed nothing and deftly tossed me skyward over the cliff’s edge. For one brief second, it seemed I was soaring, suspended above the choppy waves. I looked back towards the cliff and caught a brief glimpse of Jonathan’s silhouette against the sky before he was gone. I plunged into the churning waters below.
Blackness enveloped me in a soft cloud.
I remembered no more.
Darkness gave way to light. I was aware of warm water lapping at my feet and little wavelets swirling around my toes. I squinted; the sun was high in the sky and a gentle breeze caressed my face. I sat up. Sunlight sparkled on a beautiful azure ocean. Behind me, rolling hills encircled a small bay. The hills were dotted with bright, pastel-colored houses. There was no sign of life; I was alone except for a few squawking gulls circling overhead. I rubbed my eyes, I must be dreaming. I looked again, I was still here. I stood up and gazed around at the strange village. Where was I?
I felt a burning compulsion to explore.
57
Tanga, Ancient Greece
A dusty path meandered amongst the houses and I followed it as beads of sweat ran down my back. Why was I so hot? I glanced down. I was dressed in a long belted tunic made of cream-colored linen. It clung to my body like a second skin. I stopped, confused. Where was I going? I felt weary; my shoulders sagged and a wave of exhaustion swept over me. My long hair hung in damp strands covering my face, allowing me to peak out into the world without really being seen.
My sandaled feet were slow; I knew that they were leading me towards the temple. It rose up from the golden hills like I’d imagine Poseidon arising from the sea, its gleaming white pillars calling out to me. An old woman passed, headed in the opposite direction. I extended my hand out to stop her, and noticed my nails were chipped and encrusted with dirt.
“Excuse me, Ma’am?” I said. My voice barely above a whisper, it too sounded tired. My words were foreign, but strangely I understood them.
She turned to look at me, her flinty eyes scanning me with contempt as she assessed my unkempt appearance.
“What do you want?” she said sharply, speaking to me in the same strange tongue.
“What do the people do at the temple over there?” I asked. She gazed in the direction I was pointing.
“Thought everyone knew,” her voice sounded suspicious.
“I’m not from around here. Please tell me,” I said.
She glanced around her as if looking for eavesdroppers, then she leaned forward conspiratorially. “It’s a special place. People call it the sanctuary; they go there to be healed by Asclepius. If you’re lucky you’ll dream of Asclepius and come morning, the priests will interpret your dreams and tell you how you can be cured.” She straightened up, watching me closely as she gauged my reaction.
“Thank you so much,” I said politely. I stepped aside to let her pass, not willing to risk anymore questions. My response had disappointed her; she glared at me annoyed. She shook her head and huffed off in the opposite direction.
I stood motionless, mulling over the old woman’s words. Did I need to be healed? Who was this Asclepius? It didn’t seem to matter, my feet told me I needed to go there, and I was helpless but to obey them.
I trudged on through the town square with its myriad of fountains, their cascading waterfalls sparkling in the sunlight. Traders in the market stalls called out to me as I passed, their toothless smiles urging me to stop and buy their delicious produce. Another time I would have been enticed to purchase the colorful rainbow of fruits and vegetables arrayed before me. But today I was on a mission. I had only one destination.
The temple.
I kept an even pace as I wound my way out beyond the town, past a grove of cypress trees. It was odd to have such anonymity; I could almost believe I was normal. Nobody was aware I was in some freak time warp. It was strange I wasn’t flipping out, and that I seemed to have a definite purpose.
The sanctuary’s long white building loomed in front of me. I paused, drinking in my surroundings. Long steps led to magnificent, ornate golden double doors. I lifted my hand to shade my eyes, the doors were almost blinding in the bright sunlight. I gazed in awe; this was definitely an entry way to heaven. I took a deep breath. No time for cowardice now. I ascended the steps. I stopped when I reached the top, uncertain as to what I should do next. A beautiful young woman emerged from the shadows; she was draped in a woolen peplos which hung in deep folds from her shoulders. The tunic was held together with two large pins. Her arms were left bare. The waist was cinched tight with a belt tied over the folds.
“Greetings, welcome to the sanctuary.” The woman gave me a warm smile and I saw a fleck of kindness in her honey-brown eyes.
“Hello, my name is Tanga. I’ve come a long way; is this where the healing takes place?” The words spilled from my lips. It was as if someone else was speaking. Even my voice sounded different, hollow almost. The Greek language rolled off my tongue as though I was a native. This was such a surreal experience, it felt like I was guest-starring in a cheesy movie. The woman interrupted my musings.
“Yes my child, this is the right place, the boy will show you the way.” She snapped her fingers and a youth no older than twelve or thirteen appeared. His face was partially hidden behind a beige petasos, its broad rim a protection from the glare of the hot summer sun.
He gestured for me to follow him into the cool dark interior of the temple; he chatted amiably as I fell in step behind him.
“Come, you will rest inside the stoa tonight. This is where you will dream. Asclepius will appear and you will feel better in no time. Here, I will guide you to your chambers.”
There were many beds inside the stoa; several people were already asleep, I could hear their soft snores echoing off the walls of the room.
The boy’s voice lowered to a soft whisper. “Many of our patients prefer to take an afternoon nap, in hopes of bettering their chances of meeting with Asclepius.”
I turned to him sharply. “There is a chance he will not come?”
“Yes, but it is a slim chance. Do not worry, he will come to you; he will know you are in need. Some I fear come here when it is not necessary.”
He stopped in front of a narrow cot with a rough charcoal blanket strewn across it. At the top was what appeared to be a pillow stuffed with reeds and straw.
“Here we are,” he said, pointing to the small bed.
I studied it, wondering how I could fit my entire frame into such a tiny space.
The boy must have seen my disappointment.
“A simple bed is more conducive to dreams,” he said smiling at me. Without another word, he turned and left, retracing his steps back the way we had come.
I placed my meager belongings on the tiled floor beside me and sat down on the bed. I gazed down at my aching feet, covered in filth and dirt from my journey. At least I could get these wretched sandals off. I fumbled with the straps and they fell away. I could almost hear my feet breathe a sigh of relief. I lay back on the hard cot. Maybe now I could relax and try to figure out how I landed in this pl
ace. I tried to recall everything that had happened, but my mind wandered and I found myself drifting into a deep sleep.
I awoke to the sound of chirping birds. An early morning light filtered in through a narrow skylight in the roof. I must have slept for hours, if it was morning already. I felt groggy and confused. I moved uncomfortably on the cramped bed, my muscles stiff. The memory of the previous day flooded back to me. I sighed. What was I going to do now? I sat up and swung my legs off the bed; it was time to face the day.
“Good morning Tanga.” A soft voice interrupted my contemplation. It was the pretty lady with the long black hair I had met yesterday.
“I trust you slept well,” she said.
I found myself answering her, not knowing where the words came from.
”Yes, I had many dreams, but how will I know which one to tell the priest?”
“No need to worry dear Tanga, he will know. The priests always understand what Asclepius is trying to tell us.
“Come, I will escort you to where you may bathe. There is also a place to meditate in preparation for your meeting. Later, I’ll show you the direction you must take to see the priest while your dreams are still fresh.”
I put on my sandals, gathered my belongings and followed her past the many beds, now mostly vacant. It made me wonder how long I had been asleep. I didn’t dare ask. This place had an ethereal feeling to it, a sense of celestial timelessness that I had no desire to disturb with my prying questions. The woman led me through a narrow opening and out into a small clearing. It was overrun with flowers, creamy white lilies stood to attention and roses of every hue colored the landscape. A brook babbled happily as it meandered through the garden.
“I shall leave you here, Tanga. This is as far as I can take you. Sit and take a moment, reflect and quiet your mind. When you are ready, follow the path back towards the stoa. Beyond that, there is a temple. The priest will be prepared for your arrival. He knows who you are. Good luck, my child. May you be healed.”
She reached for my hand and pressed something hard and cold into my palm and folded my fingers over it.
“Hold onto this and don’t let go,” she whispered before she turned on her heel and left. There was no sound as she whisked past the roses and vanished out of sight.
I stared down at what she had placed into my hand and found what appeared to be a pretty blue sapphire gem on one side, when I turned it over I saw on the other side there was a picture of the sun with an engraved inscription running around the edge. It was probably a good luck charm or something, it had to be. It couldn’t be the amulet could it? I quickly tucked it into my rope belt; I would look at it more closely later. Now was not the time for investigation.
I searched my surroundings; I managed to find a flat stone by the brook. I plopped down and tried to anticipate what lay ahead. I started to meditate as the woman had instructed, allowing the sound of the gurgling water to invade my senses. The sun warmed my back and I relaxed. Allowing the tension to dissolve, I breathed in contentedly; this was most agreeable. A distant bell sounded and I realized I had been sitting there longer than intended. Mindful that the priest would be waiting for me, I hurriedly cupped my hands into the cool water and washed away all the dust and grime from my body. It wasn’t ideal but I did my best. Feeling refreshed, I set out and found the temple exactly where the woman said it would be. I realized I didn’t know her name; maybe I could find her later and thank her.
I entered the sanctuary. The priest stood in the center of the room in front of an open fireplace. He was decked out in a long flowing robe the color of spun gold. He turned at the clack of my sandals on the stone floor. His eyes gleamed as he appraised me.
I swallowed hard, feeling awkward. Not knowing what else to do I extended my hand and said, “Hello, I’m Tanga.” I offered him an embarrassed grin.
The priest did not smile in return, nor did he acknowledge the hand I held out in greeting. “I know who you are,” he said coldly. The warmth I had felt with the kind lady completely evaporated.
“Please lie down on the table. I will explain your dreams, and perhaps how I may heal you.” He pointed to a rectangular table covered with a deep purple cloth.
I hastened over and lay down. It was hard and uncomfortable but I didn’t complain. He was unfriendly enough without my aggravating him. He stepped up and closed his eyes. Raising his arms high above him, he began babbling. I assumed he was making some sort of supplication to the gods. He droned on in this manner for a few minutes before lowering his arms. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and silky.
“You have had many dreams Tanga. But there is one of significance here, one that is the key to unlock the healing within you.”
He placed an icy hand on my forehead. After a few moments, his hand jerked back, his eyes open in shock, but only for an instant. He composed himself, rearranging his face into a vaporous smile. What was he hiding from me? A feeling of uneasiness swept through me.
He was staring at me. I tried my best to read him, but he came through in spits and spats…not clearly, as thoughts usually did. Apparently he had been waiting a long time for something, and whatever it was, he’d found it in a tiny woman named…Tanga. My stomach knotted, I didn’t trust this man. He was speaking again and I struggled to pay attention.
“You are one of the fortunate, Tanga, you can be healed. Asclepius has decreed it. He has given me the ingredients for an elixir to ease the pain you have experienced. Asclepius says you will be healed.” He placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Stay here. I will be back momentarily.”
It took a few seconds for the words to register. I bolted upright and called after him. “Wait! What do you mean, the pain I have felt? Can you be more specific?”
He turned and raised a bushy eyebrow at me. Apparently he wasn’t used to feedback. Without a word, he moved to a rough wooden bench lined with small white bowls. Each one was filled to the brim with some sort of liquid; their odor filled the room with a vinegary, rancid stench.
The priest took an empty cup and began mixing ingredients, something orange and something red and a pinch of white. He placed it over the fire, waited a few minutes, then removed it from the heat, giving it a quick stir. Obviously satisfied with the results, he carried it to the table.
“Here you are my child, drink this.”
He held the cup to my lips. I gulped back the bitter elixir and heard the priest’s voice whisper soothingly in my ear, “You’re alright my dear, just relax and unwind.”
I wondered why on earth I was doing this disagreeable man’s bidding. I didn’t get time to ponder my situation, before he thrust out his hand and placed it on my forehead. The room began to spin and I found myself falling back against the hard surface of the table.
As the earth violently shook, I heard a loud cracking sound and an immeasurable pressure coming from my pocket. The sapphire gem the lady had given me shot through the fabric of my tunic and hung mid-air before I caught a glimpse of it splitting into two. The blue glow blinded me right before sinking into oblivion.
The Priest
My mouth spread into a wide smile, pleased with myself. I couldn’t believe my good fortune; she had simply walked into the temple, right into our boúrda. I stretched out a hand and carefully held it over her third eye. My hand tingled and I felt a thrill of anticipation. It wouldn’t be long now and her soul would be released.
The earth rumbled under my feet, and a boom echoed through the air. I looked up in alarm just as the ground cracked open beneath me. I lurched forward and grabbed for the table. My reflexes weren’t fast enough and I found myself sliding across the sanctuary floor. I was no longer with the girl, but near the fire. I was on fire! I tried to roll, but to no avail. The flames consumed me. The smell of searing flesh reached my nostrils. This was my retribution, my punishment.
I had broken every rule.
She would never be mine.
At least, not in this lifetime.
58
Emma Diamond
“Emma Diamond, wake up you must wake up. You cannot let the Dark One win. Please wake up!”
Who was calling me?
A woman’s voice persisted, continuing to pester me. Warmth, radiating from my chest, dragged me back from the blackness—away from the dream. I opened my eyes and realized I’d been clutching my locket. A silvery mist emanated from its center and a woman resembling an angel floated in the haze.
I blinked a few times to be sure I wasn’t imagining things.
“Am I dead?” I asked weakly. I was conscious of an excruciating pain in my leg and realized I couldn’t be dead if I was in this teeth-gritting agony.
The woman’s voice interrupted my thoughts. She sounded frantic. “Diamond, listen to me, you’re not dead, but you will be unless you hurry. He’s heading down the cliff, and he’s determined to finish what he’s started.” She waved her hands, flustered. “It’s almost midnight; the veil is thinning…come on!”
“What are you talking about and who are you?” I said peering intently into the foggy mist.
My heart stopped.
“Aunt Abby?” I asked. But I already knew. I recognized her from the faded black and white photograph Granna kept on the mantelpiece. I’d studied it pretty hard when Granna had given me the locket. I felt like I had memorized her face.
“But how,” I sputtered… “You’re dead. Look, I even have your locket.”
“I’m here because your Granna sent me. She has been trying to help but it has been difficult. She told me to tell you that she loves you and believes in you. She knows you can do this.”
At the mention of Granna I started to cry. “It’s all my fault she’s dead, I should’ve saved her when I had the chance. Why didn’t I save her?”
“Emma, listen to me you can’t do this to yourself. This is the reason you are not at full power, you must believe. You are blocking the universal force. It was your Granna’s time. You couldn’t have prevented her death. But Emma, you can change some things. It’s up to you to make the difference. There is more at stake here than mere survival; evil must not succeed. You are not alone in all this; our Greek ancestors are all around you. We will always protect you; you are our Soul of the Sun.”
The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty) Page 18