by Pat Spence
“You look like you’ve been up all night,” observed Tash, which didn’t make me feel any better.
How I wished I could have told her what I’d experienced the night before. Never had I needed a friend to confide in more than now. But how could I? For a start, it sounded incredible. Old people going into a room with a blue light and coming out young… What would I think if someone told me that? Either they were winding me up or had been drinking. Then, there was the danger element, which was a great deal more worrying. If I really wasn’t safe, then I couldn’t drag Tash or Seth into this. I’d chosen to go to the Blue Moon Ball, despite all the warnings. I’d seen more than a few things that didn’t add up at Hartswell Hall, and yet I’d still gone back, aware that something strange was going on. I simply couldn’t involve my friends.
Tash had been right to be suspicious of Theo, but she had no idea what was really going on. I had to wait until I’d spoken with Theo, then decide whether to tell them.
The day passed uneventfully and I had great difficult staying awake, particularly in the Modern History lecture. Mr Greaves’ monotone voice droned on soporifically, citing battles and dates and theory and strategy until everything blended together and I couldn’t stop myself dozing off, prompting his sarcastic comment, “Are we keeping you up Miss Morgan? Please don’t let my lecture interfere with your need to nap.”
The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough and I gratefully climbed onto the bus, feeling worn out and drained. Never had I been happier to get home and I slumped against the front door once it was closed, hanging my head and staring at the carpet.
“Are you alright, Emily?” asked my mother, walking into the hall. “You look done in. I hope you’re not coming down with that virus again. They do say viruses come back if you do too much.”
“No, I’m fine, mum,” I answered, “just tired. How’s Granddad? Is he any better? Can I go up and see him?”
“Leave him be for the moment,” she advised. “He’s sleeping and I think it’s better not to wake him. He’s had a reasonable day… came down this afternoon for a couple of hours and had a bowl of soup. I’m sure he’ll feel better tomorrow.”
She put her coat on. “I have to pop out for a while. I need to return my library books and pop in to the vicarage. Can you listen out for Granddad waking up and, if he does, see if he needs anything?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, love,” she kissed the top of my head and was walking out of the front door, when she turned to me and called back, “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you, Theo called.”
A bolt of adrenalin shot through my system. “What?” I asked, suddenly wide awake. “What did he say? Why didn’t he call my cell phone?”
“He says he tried, but you weren’t answering, so he called the landline instead. He said not to call him, he’ll call back. Now, I must go. See you later.”
She walked up the front pathway and I shut the door behind her. I searched frantically for my cell phone but couldn't find it anywhere. In a panic, I remembered photographing the beautiful people the night before. That was the last time I’d used it. I’d been so tired today, I hadn’t even missed it. I couldn’t lose my phone.
In desperation, I searched my pockets and my backpack, then ran upstairs and searched my bedroom, pulling out the clothes I’d worn the previous evening, looking under the bed and in the bathroom. But it was nowhere to be seen.
I sat on my bed with my head in my hands, various scenarios racing through my mind. Could I have dropped it at Hartswell Hall? That was worst-case scenario, particularly if it fell into the wrong hands and they saw the pictures I’d taken. Could I have dropped it while running through the woods, or while I was in the church? There was nothing for it, I would have to go back and search. But I couldn’t leave Granddad. I paced across my bedroom, feeling powerless and afraid, willing my mother to come back. I had to find my phone.
Just as I heard my mother’s key in the lock, the landline rang downstairs. I heard her pick up and answer as she walked in to the hallway. Jumping down the stairs, two at a time, I nearly collided with her as she handed me the receiver.
“It’s for you,” she said. “It’s Theo.”
“Hello,” I said, walking quickly into the lounge and shutting the door behind me. This was one conversation I didn’t want my mother overhearing. “Theo?”
“Hi Emily,” he said. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to call you all day.”
“Sorry,” I said, “I’ve lost my phone. I can’t find it anywhere.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him I’d taken pictures of his guests with it the night before. It seemed too voyeuristic.
“How are you?” he asked. “You obviously made it back to the church okay.”
“Yes,” I answered, unable also to tell him about the two yellow eyes I thought I’d seen in the undergrowth watching me. Now it just seemed ridiculous.
“Emily, I need to see you…”
My heart was thumping in my chest.
“Okay,” I said, wanting to say so much, but hardly able to speak. I didn’t know where to start, so I let him take the lead.
“Are you alright?” he asked again.
“I don’t know, Theo, I’m very confused.”
There was a silence before he said, “Can you meet me tonight? In the church?”
“Yes,” I said breathlessly, “What time?”
“11 o’clock. Our guests are in the process of leaving. I should be able to get away by then.”
“Is it safe?” I asked.
“Emily,” he sighed, “Nothing is safe.” And the line went dead.
At ten minutes to eleven, I started out for the church.
It was the second time this evening. Earlier on, I’d searched inside the church and along the pathway, looking for my phone, but it was nowhere to be found. I’d encountered Father James, just finishing evening prayer, who was somewhat confused at the likelihood of my phone being in the church, given my lack of attendance at services, but he said he’d look out for it.
I told my mum I was going to bed, and guiltily putting a pillow under the blankets to resemble my sleeping form, I crept quietly down the stairs. Granddad was sleeping peacefully in his room and my mother sat watching a comedy show on TV in the lounge, the canned laughter so loud she didn’t hear me open the front door and close it carefully behind me.
I walked on tiptoes up the front pathway, then started to run down the road and didn’t stop until I reached the old Lych Gate leading to the church. I looked around furtively, feeling suddenly scared I’d see yellow eyes watching me. It was a cloudy night and the moon was obliterated, so there was very little natural light. I stepped through the Lych Gate and into the graveyard. The undergrowth that surrounded the graveyard was black and impenetrable, which only increased my fear.
Why had Theo suggested we meet here? Of all places, it was the scariest. But also the safest, a little voice in my head reminded me.
Forcing myself to breathe slowly and walking with my head high, I made my way towards the church, passing the vestry and along the church’s east wall, before reaching the entrance. Quickly, I turned the heavy iron door ring and pushed open the door, just as the clock was striking eleven o’clock in the bell tower. The church was in darkness and I faltered as I closed the door behind me, dropping the iron latch into place. What if it was a trap?
Almost immediately, I heard a voice to my left. “Emily, I’m here. Don’t turn on the lights. Come this way.”
I felt Theo’s hand reach for mine and lead me into the church. We seemed to be going down the central aisle and into the nave, past the choir stall and organ pipes, and up to the high altar. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, I could just make out Theo’s blond hair ahead of me.
He led me to the wall on the right hand side of the nave, where a large tapestry hung. He lifted it up, revealing an arched recess and door concealed behind it, and placed a key
in the lock. He turned it and the door swung inwards. He stepped in, pulling me with him and I heard the door close behind us. It was pitch black and smelled dry and dusty. I guessed we were in a passageway, but didn’t feel brave enough to put out a hand and feel the walls.
Almost immediately, Theo said, “There are spiral steps leading down. Put your right hand on the wall and you’ll find a handrail. Keep hold of it as you go down, it’s quite steep.”
I let go of his hand and did as he said. My hand touched an old stone wall, with large, uneven bricks. I ran my fingers down until they touched a handrail. It felt like polished wood and I guessed it had been worn smooth by generations of hands holding on to it as they descended.
“Where are we going, Theo?” I whispered.
“To the vault,” he whispered back to me. “It was the safest place I could think of.”
For the next couple of minutes, I concentrated on holding the handrail tightly and putting one foot in front of another as the spiral steps led down and round. It was not a pleasant experience in the pitch darkness and I was glad when my feet touched a flat, even surface.
I heard Theo say, “That’s it. We’re at the bottom of the steps.”
Then there was the sound of a door being opened in front of us, the hinges creaking loudly, and I felt Theo’s hand reach for mine and pull me forward. The air smelt dry and stale, as if untouched for many years, but it was still pitch black and I could see nothing until Theo struck a match. In the faint glow, I could see a small room, maybe three metres square. He lit two candles, placed in a recess hewn into the thick stone walls, and I was able to make out an arched ceiling above us, and two more recesses containing old books, candlesticks and some ancient tools. An empty shelving system stood against one wall and apart from that, there was little else of interest. I was very relieved to see an absence of coffins. I didn’t think I would have been able to stay for a chat if I was sharing the room with mouldering old skeletons.
“Where are the coffins?” I asked Theo, whispering in the gloom. “I thought this was a vault.”
“They were removed a long time ago,” he whispered back. “This room isn’t used for anything now. I don’t think many people know it exists.”
“Except you,” I pointed out.
“Yes. And Joseph. He discovered it when he was looking at some old plans. It links to the hall.”
“You mean there’s a secret passage way?” I asked, incredulously. This was like an Enid Blyton story, or it would have been if it weren’t so scary.
“Yes,” said Theo, “there’s another door over there, under that tapestry, leading to the hall.”
“Is that how you got here?” I asked, walking to the ancient tapestry covering the wall and lifting a corner. Sure enough, there was a door behind it.
“Yes, it seemed the easiest way. I didn’t want anybody to see me leaving.”
“Are your guests still there?” I asked, pulling the tapestry back into place.
“They’re getting ready to go, so I won’t be missed for a while. But I don’t have long.”
I turned to him. “Theo, what I saw last night…”
“I know,” he said, “you need an explanation. And I’ll do my best to tell you everything, but I must be back before midnight.”
As yet, apart from holding hands, we’d kept our distance from one another. Now, I yearned to be held by him, to kiss him, for things to be normal, to say last night had all been a misunderstanding, and they’d been playing a strange kind of party game. I looked at him closely, so ethereally beautiful in the flickering candlelight, his skin smooth and white, his hair golden and his eyes large and dark. I felt the energy around him, almost crackling in its intensity and experienced the most intense desire within me, heightened by the darkness, the mystery and the danger surrounding us. But there was no time for embracing. I had questions that needed answering and the clock was against us.
“Go on,” I demanded. “Tell me what’s going on… Who you are? What are you?”
He hesitated for a moment, then started to speak.
“What you saw last night really happened. You saw old people being rejuvenated, their youth, vitality and beauty restored. You also saw what happened to the one that didn’t make it. You saw him decay before your eyes, and that is the danger facing us all, unless we bathe in the light given out by the crystal of eternal youth.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “What? Are having me on? This sounds more like some kind of weird science fiction story.”
“Emily, believe me. It’s true.” Theo’s voice became more urgent. “You need to know, so you can understand the danger you’re in.”
“Carry on,” I said, hardly able to believe what I was hearing.
“It began many thousands of years ago, in the time of the Ancient Egyptians. It was 1350 BC and Viyesha was a High Priestess in the reign of the heretical king, Amenophis IV-Akhenaten.”
I cut in, my voice scathing, “You mean Viyesha is thousands of years old?” Now I really was having difficulty suspending my disbelief.
“Emily, you have to listen,” said Theo patiently, “I don’t have long.” He took a deep breath and continued, “Viyesha was the daughter of a slave girl and, amidst a nation of dark-skinned people, was revered for her white-blond hair, blue eyes and pale skin. She grew up in the palace of Queen Nefertiti at Amarna, and when she was thirteen, she became a High Priestess in the temple at Akhenaten, known today as Tell el-Amarna. The temple was dedicated to the worship of Amun-Ra, the Hidden One, God of Eternal Life, and it was said that a powerful crystal, kept within the temple’s inner sanctum, was a gift from the God himself and had the power of bestowing eternal life. As High Priestess, Viyesha had made a sacred vow with Amun-Ra to keep the crystal safe and protect it with her life. All was well until the king, also known as Akhenaten, prohibited the worship of Amun-Ra and insisted, on pain of death, that his people worshipped Aten, the Solar Globe. Viyesha fled from the temple, in fear of her life, taking with her the precious blue crystal and escaping into the mountains.”
He paused, but I remained silent and he continued with the story.
“For a number of years, she lived alone in a cave, guarding the crystal. Every so often, she would take it out and run her fingers over its hard, smooth facets, and every time she did so, she experienced the most exquisite feelings of energy, well-being and power. When she looked at her reflection in a nearby pool, her skin was glowing, her eyes bright and her hair shining. She had never felt or looked so amazing. Occasionally, followers of Amun-Ra would visit her secretly and ask after the crystal, but fearing spies from the king, she could trust no one and always denied its existence. Over time, it fell into the realms of myth. Still she guarded it, touching it only once a year, to renew the feelings of well-being and vitality that it promoted within her. The revelation of the crystal’s true power came in the year 1332 BC, when Viyesha was 30 years old. It was the night of a Blue Moon, an important and mystical event in the ancient calendar. As she brought out the crystal to touch it, the moon’s rays fell upon it, activating its hidden properties. Blue flames leapt from the crystal and Viyesha was bathed in their brilliant blue light. She felt like never before. Renewed, restored, rejuvenated. After this, she stopped ageing. As all around her began to show signs of the passing years, she maintained her youth and beauty. Now, at last she understood the meaning of the strange hieroglyphic in the temple’s inner sanctum: a circle crossed through by an infinity sign.”
“The same sign on the back of the cloaks and on the Clock Tower,” I declared, “and I saw it again on the shoulder of one of your guests.”
“We all bear the mark of the crystal,” said Theo. “I, too, have such a symbol on my shoulder. It glows brightly or grows dim, depending on the lunar cycle. But let me finish my story, Emily. I don’t have much time. Two years after Viyesha had discovered the crystal’s power, the king died under mysterious circumstances and was succeeded by Tutankhamun, who proceeded to reinstate th
e cult of Amun-Ra.”
“D’you mean the famous Tutankhamun? The one whose tomb was found by Howard Carter in 1922?” I asked, remembering amazing pictures of the golden and blue death mask.
“The same,” replied Theo. “Viyesha shared her knowledge of the crystal’s power with Tutankhamun. He told her he would start using the crystal’s power in his eighteenth year, but before he could do so, he fell ill and died, some say murdered. Fearing for her life once again, Viyesha took the crystal and disappeared.”
At this point, I interrupted. “It’s a brilliant story, Theo, but do you really expect me to believe Viyesha is over three thousand years old? Even ‘vampires’ is a more believable story than that. And if she’s three thousand, how old are you?”
“My story is for another time,” he said, hurriedly. “I must get back, but there are things I still need to say.”
“Go on, then,” I said, my mind reeling. I still thought it was some kind of elaborate joke.
“To maintain our youth,” he continued, “we must bathe in the light that emanates from the blue crystal when it is at its most powerful, at the time of the Blue Moon….” he paused, “…an event that happens once every three years or so, in a year which has thirteen full moons.”
“And if you don’t, you age rapidly and die,” I said, thinking of the unfortunate guest.
“Exactly,” said Theo. “Ageing and death occurs within minutes.”
“So your guests…” I said slowly, “all those famous people that I recognised last night….those distinguished men and women…”
He finished my sentence, “…. have all been rejuvenated using the blue crystal. Each one of them enjoys eternal youth… more accomplished, more beautiful and more charismatic than ever before, all blemishes, imperfections and irregularities removed.”
“But why them?” I had to ask. “Why were they selected?”