The Skin of the Gods

by Phil Armstrong

  These artifacts had remained undisturbed for decades, until the current Soul Collector had managed to locate them. Hiding in Paris, The Soul Collector was determined to restore the mandates of The Servants of Byblos. He used his research powers and his Ring, to locate the missing box. He was determined to restore the legend as fact. He managed to reactivate the cause of this ancient society. The Golden box had been lost, but he always remained convinced of its existence. Once its location was identified, The Soul Collector bought the building to safely retrieve the artifacts. The Soul Collector appointed a new Keeper and the mandate of The Servants of Byblos had been restored.

  One of the most famous Keepers passed away and delegated his responsibility to a wise friend. The French Keeper took his rightful place in Byblos folklore, as the man who found the Golden box, as a famous German Knight had done once before. He joined others who fought to preserve the integrity of this powerful group, through heroic actions and dogged persistence. A powerful Asian businessman assumed the role of The Keeper.

  Shortly after his appointment, the purchase of ‘The Lamb and Flag’ was concluded. It was to be refurbished by the mysterious Asian investor. Big Jack, was a cockney landlord looking to own a piece of his own pub. He was well liked in the community and a man with high integrity. He reluctantly entered into a partnership with the Asian investor. He seemed to be the perfect silent partner, occasionally interested in the profits and the expenses. Initially, Jack had reservations about this complicated business arrangement. He had only met his partner once, leaving it to the accountants to conduct the business transaction. There was only one behavior from his Asian partner that seemed odd.

  During the pub’s renovations, he insisted that only his private contractor would conduct renovation work on the pub. He had bought the adjacent building. He seemed keenly interested in the details of how the pub would be extended into this space. He supervised every detail and obsessed about the quality of the workmanship. He would arrange visits after hours, to inspect the work in private. Paul Smith knew the Ring and the Golden box had been hidden, undiscovered for years. The secret cavity, within a section of wall, was a perfect hiding space. The Keeper seemed pleased with it. He had incorporated the existing hiding place into the new design of the pub. No one would suspect an artifact of such significance, would be hidden in such a public place. The Keeper would always know where the Golden box was located. The Soul Collector was informed that it was now safe. He was never told of its new location. He was told that it was, “Somewhere in England.”

  If circumstances were dire, The Soul Collector could use his ring to locate and retrieve the hidden artifacts. It seemed a foolproof plan. If the Keeper were ever compromised, the Ring and the Golden box would always be safe. The Keeper’s accountants ensured the pub remained profitable. He gave strict instructions that no renovations were allowed, without his express permission, no matter how minor. This seemed odd and a little controlling. It was the only quirk the Asian partner had. Big Jack thought it was eccentric, but apart from this demand, he was pretty much hands-off. Over time, he grew to respect his partner. The Asian investor had honored his commitments and did not interfere with the running of the pub. Big Jack became comfortable with the arrangement. When new wiring was required, he dutifully respected his partner’s request. Occasionally, the Keeper would visit England. He would indulge in a quiet pint, sitting unnoticed in his own pub. Big Jack was always unaware of the hidden treasure within the cleverly crafted recess of the pub’s wooden wall.

  Matt entered the small door, situated to the right of the pub’s main window. The pub had a wooden exterior, which looked old and authentic. It was a quiet night, with only a few patrons drinking under the low ceiling. Matt scanned the pub and pulled himself up to the bar.

  “Yes Sir, what’ll you have?” asked Big Jack, a large red-faced man working behind the bar.

  “Bottle of Beck’s,” said Matt, trying to look like a guy who just needed a drink. He proceeded to sit in a high wooden bar stool.

  The spirit of Paul Smith looked around, trying to soak in the sights. He remembered the building’s layout and recalled the older part of the house destroyed by the fire. The layout was slightly different; it had been changed over time. The pub had expanded into the building next door and had incorporated the old library. “Where was it?”

  Matt sat quietly, sipping from his drink. He paid the barman for the drink and walked across the worn wooden floor towards the men’s washroom. The spirit recognized the shape of the rooms but tried not to look at the pictures, plaques and framed photos. He was looking for a specific alcove. “There, move over there.” Matt moved involuntarily towards his left, “We’ve found it.”

  Matt proceeded quickly around a corner and reached into his jacket for a small electrical device. It flashed a green LED when it sensed Gold of the highest caliber. He held the device to the wooden paneled wall and the LED glowed green. Matt looked around and took his opportunity while it was quiet. He reached into his coat and extracted a sharp tool. He slammed the spiked metal tool into the wooden wall panel. He used such force that it broke two small bones in his hand and wrist. The pain was excruciating but the spirit was in control, not Matt.

  Surprisingly, the blade penetrated the wooden board and passed through into a concealed cavity. He used the serrated edge of the spike to act like a saw. He worked quickly for fear of being discovered. He moved the blade in and out, slicing through the old dry wood. Making a hole the size of his fist, he reached into the wall and felt a metal mechanism. He also felt the outline of a box. He used his fingers to gently draw the box closer to the opening. He could see the box but something was moving in front of it. The Golden box was dragging a Ring forward towards the opening. Matt could hear voices approaching. He pinched the Ring with his fingers, pulling it from the cavity. He slipped it onto his left index finger. With his right hand, he reached for the Golden box. The spirit blocked the pain and drove Matt onwards. Grasping the thin end of the box, he carefully withdrew the heavy object from the orifice within the wall.

  More voices could be heard. This time they sounded closer. Matt quickly tucked his tools and his bounty into his coat pocket, before ducking into the men’s washroom. A man walked in as Matt washed the wood dust from his hands. The man nodded, approached a urinal and turned his back to Matt. Matt dried his hands on a paper towel. He threw the crumpled towel into the garbage bin and quickly headed for the bar. Matt nodded farewell to the bar man and made his way to the door. He breathed deeply and left the pub quickly before he could be discovered. He felt the weight of the small Golden box resting against the lining of his coat pocket. “We have it,” screamed the voice within his head.

  Matt hurried through the dark busy streets, towards the Strand Palace Hotel. He was soon safely tucked away from prying eyes. He hung his coat carefully on a hanger within his hotel room closet. He reached into the pocket and withdrew the Golden box. It was heavy and exquisite. The box shone brightly, despite being covered in a film of dust. It had been hiding within a secret compartment since the night of the fire. Work crews had come close to finding it, when they renovated the pub and converted the library. An electrician had almost discovered the precious object, when he tried to run a wire through the wall to rewire a hallway light. He had encountered the metal latch of the concealed mechanism and decided to pull the wire under the obstruction. Old buildings were full of surprises and you needed to be flexible in how you got the job done. Behind the walls, no one can see if you followed code or not.

  Matt examined the box, washing the dust away with a damp face cloth. The gold was a deep rich yellow color; it was old gold. It reflected the light from a worn out bulb hanging from a wire in the hotel room. Matt’s sore fingers positioned themselves under the golden latch. He sprung the hinged catch upwards. The lid flipped open, rotating a golden pin at the back of the box. It opened to reveal an empty box. The insides were smooth with impeccable seams, as if the box were made from one con
tinuous piece of gold. “Just the right size to fit an Amulet,” echoed through Matt’s brain. Matt was still fighting for control. Each day he felt weaker and was losing the fight.

  That night, Matt’s mobile phone was in demand. Numerous messages were left. They started with a polite inquiry, followed by increasingly concerned messages. After being ignored for hours, the messages became threats and then stopped. Matt would have returned the messages promptly but the mobile phone had been disabled. It was now in pieces, buried deep within a city rubbish bin. The spirit had other ideas on how the next series of events would play out.

  Paul Smith had always been a driven man. Dying from burns, while hiding in a hotel room, was an excruciating way to leave this world. He remembered vividly the conversation he heard in the library. He remembered reading the Book of Byblos, stolen that fateful night. He recalled the fight, the fire and that damn protective dog. The walk back to his hotel was excruciating. His burns were extensive and proved to be fatal. He swore on his deathbed that he would find the Amulet and the Golden box. He would find a way to avenge his death and come back to this world with greater power. He would one day use this dark magic to revisit this world. He smiled when he thought about regaining his youth with the wisdom he now had. He would sweep Claire off her feet and live with her as man and wife. When Claire passed away, he would be free to move between time and space. The women of today dressed more provocatively and were far more sexually aggressive. He liked that, yet he missed the naivety of the women from his age; they would believe anything.

  Paul had shown promise in the afterlife. He was smart and gifted. He was being tutored for special tasks that could involve visiting the physical world. His Gieging studies had been progressing well. He was leaning how to separate from the collective spirit and become an individual. Paul had learned of a crystal and a race of people from Lemuria. He knew that if he separated at the right moment, he would be able to pass through an open portal and inhabit the crystal. When Paul was dropped from the Gieging program he was devastated and angry.

  Paul channeled his thoughts and instructions through a medium working for the Order of the Serpent. He told them, he knew how to find the Golden box and the Amulet. He struck an accord. If they would follow his instructions and locate the crystal, he would assist them. He would help to flush out the three Arch Druids of the Servants of Byblos. He would assist them in finding the artifacts. In return for his help, he would be allowed to manifest in physical form on this earth.

  The Order of the Serpent obliged offering him a fit young male body and mind. Matt was the unsuspecting prize. Easily influenced he thought he was only a carrier. The spirit would be trapped within the crystal pendant. Cryanna had programmed the pendant to hold the spirit temporarily. Paul Smith knew how to infiltrate Matt’s mind, like a parasite.

  The plot was set. The crystal pendant had been secured. Beth Martindale was helping Subra and Corum find an open portal in Brussels. Paul Smith waited. Once Beth stepped upon the Shell, she activated the portal. Paul separated from the collective conscious and quickly surged through the portal. Subra and Corum unsuspectingly passed through the portal the other way. Paul found his receptive vessel in the welcoming Indigo energy provided by Beth Martindale.

  She was an Indigo Child, surrounded by purple energy. Fearful that Beth would feel his presence, he instructed Matt to touch Beth. Matt had been following Beth. As soon as she stood on the Shell, she fell to the ground. This was the perfect scenario for Matt to touch Beth in a way that didn’t appear odd. He extended his hand to help her from the ground. Paul or Badra surged through Beth’s arm to enter Matt. He flooded into Cryanna’s crystal pendant, suspended from Matt’s neck. Beth was so confused she had feelings of energy pulsing through her body. She felt Subra leaving her body and had blacked out for a second or two. She felt the energy rush through her but she thought that was the effects of the portal.

  The plan had been set in motion. As long as Matt wore the pendant Paul would be in control. The Order of the Serpent wanted the artifacts and Paul would direct Matt to find them. Matt’s actions would not raise suspicions. It looked like Paul was living up to his end of the bargain. Paul had instructed the Order not to communicate with him directly, until he had secured the Golden Box.

  Anything earlier than that would raise suspicions within Matt and freak him out. Now the Golden box was secure, and control over Matt was complete, Paul felt it was time to activate the remainder of his plan. He would break away from the Order of the Serpent and double cross them. He needed to find the Amulet and take the powers for his own use. He had led the Order to believe in the power of the artifacts. He told them that the powers only work on the living. His reward would be living his life in this world through Matt. This seemed to allay any fears that they had about a double cross. How gullible these people were. How easily manipulated and tricked they were. Paul was now in control. He just needed to find the Amulet and with his knowledge, combined with Matt’s modern knowledge, they would find it easily. They now had the Ring. Paul knew the Ring would point to the Keeper. The Keeper would have the Amulet.

  Paul knew the Elders from the Order of the Serpent would not be pleased. They would come after Matt. Paul would need to be clever and evasive. Matt would provide a suitable host until he could find the Amulet.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 22: A Fragile Heart

  Haworth, West Yorkshire, England, Present day.

  Beth paced frantically, following a patterned line, woven into her old carpet. She felt agitated, trapped within the living room of her cozy cottage. Beth was bored, irritated and wanted to eat. She was not hungry, just really annoyed. Matt had played her for a fool. He had violated her body and her mind. He had gained her trust, accepted her love, and betrayed her in the worse way. Why had he done this? How could he have been so cold, so callous? She stopped suddenly and exhaled loudly. She rolled her eyes in the direction of the low ceiling. Beth looked skywards towards the heavens, confident that this was the location that contained her answers. Perhaps the Gods would be kind enough to impart some wisdom.

  Beth screamed at the top of her voice, “Maybe I wanted to hear it so badly that my ears betrayed my mind, in order to secure my heart.” She paused, “I could never sound so eloquent. I’d like to thank you, Margaret Cho, for the quote.” She hung her head feeling sorry for herself, “Well Margaret, I bet you could come up with an even better quote, if you knew how much of a fool I’ve been.” Beth let out another sigh. She perched on the edge of her couch. “Matt used me and now David’s taken off. What’s with men and me?” A smile crept across her face, “Women who seek to be equal with men, lack ambition.” She laughed but she didn’t feel happy.

  Beth caught her reflection in the mirror. She spoke to herself, “I seem to be attracting a lot of what I don’t want. Men like to take off on me. I must be driving them away. I’m so bored, all I seem to do these days is hang around and wait for a man. They take off and leave me, while I sit here and stew. Come on Beth, snap out of this.” She stared at herself intently and studied her glum reflection. “I’ve been blessed with this gift. I have access to all of this wisdom; now use it. Lao Tze would tell you this. Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.”

  Beth paused and reflected upon the wisdom contained within the quote. “I’m going out, I can’t take much more of this.” Beth grabbed her heavy coat and paused by the door. She bent over and tugged at her laces. As she struggled to loop the thick rough lace another quote sauntered into her head. “It is a waste of energy to be angry with a man who behaves badly, just as it is to be angry with a car that won’t go.” Beth shook her head to challenge the thought. “Bertrand Russell was a man, how would he know?” stormed Beth, as she tugged the lace tight on her running shoe.

  Beth felt for her keys, deep within her coat pocket. She
slammed her door closed as she stepped out onto the narrow slated porch leading from her cottage. She gave the door a firm tug, to ensure it was closed. She spun around gracefully and bounded down the slate steps. She proceeded to walk briskly along Sun Street. She headed in the direction of Main Street, with its shops and pubs. As she walked, the tip of her running shoe dragged. Her foot did not clear the raised slate located within the uneven sidewalk. She had pushed her leg forward and hit the protruding slate lip with full force. Her ankle buckled and she felt herself falling forward as she tripped over the immovable slab. Beth struggled to maintain her footing. It was far from graceful but she managed to regain her balance and remain upright. “Damn it,” she snapped, glaring at the protruding slate lip. She glanced across the narrow street where two teenage boys, dressed in American style hoodies, were sniggering at her misfortune. Beth caught their glances and felt embarrassed. Her face flushed and she became angry. A quote forced its way into her consciousness. “Boys will be boys, and so will a lot of middle-aged men.”