The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series

by Natalie Wright

  “Back to my time? Mother, I have no time. Do you not see? I belong here. I always have. You are a part of me, Mother, and I a part of you. And I have waited, mother, oh so long I have waited.”

  I could swear I saw tears come to his eyes. Is it possible that Dughall has feelings? Is it possible that he could be human again?

  “Dearest one, do not fret. You can stay. We will figure it out. Do not worry any more dear son.” Dughall’s mother continued to stroke his hair.

  “Yes, mother, and together we will rule this land. Oh, I have dreamed it and planned it for so long and now, all the forces are aligned. Now is the time mother. You will be a slave no more. You will be a queen.”

  “With the help of the angel, our slavery will end today to be sure. But a queen? Why I have no such sights.”

  “This child save you? But mother, I will free you. And together we will rule, I promise you that. I will make those who have held us suffer as we have suffered. Revenge will be ours!”

  She took his head in her hands, one palm on each side of his face and looked long and deep into his eyes.

  “You are my son, that is true, but a part of you has surely been lost.”

  “What are you saying mother? I am your son, as I have always been.”

  “I did not teach my son to seek revenge and glory.”

  “But you did, Mother. You always told me that I was exceptional and destined for greatness. You taught me to bide my time until I could prove myself.”

  “Yes, it is true that I always saw in you a potential for greatness. But I never taught you to seek revenge or to inflict suffering on others. Is that what you thought I wanted for you? My poor son. All these years that is what you thought I wanted for my dear son?”

  “Of course mother, to rule over the land. We will have riches and power. And with all that I have learned from the future, we will rule over a vast empire. The entire world will be ours. Do you not want to be a queen mother? To have all that you desire?”

  “Dughall, my son, my heart’s only desire has been to see you happy. Not pleasure from gold adornments or beautiful women on your arm or power. No, all I have wanted for my son is that he know happiness within himself.” She put her hand over his heart as she spoke.

  “What are you saying mother? Are you saying that you will not come with me? That you will not help me as I conquer this land then rule by my side?”

  “No Dughall, I have no desire to build an empire with you. I am content to receive the help of this angel to escape my captivity then live with my son, young Dughall, in an honest life. That is all I have ever wanted.”

  Dughall’s face looked as crestfallen as a dog that sat, begged, stayed and rolled over then didn’t get the promised treat. While still kneeling, he looked away from us both for a moment then slowly rose.

  Dughall may have learned a lot of things while in the Umbra Nihili, but he apparently didn’t learn to close his mind to the sight. In a flash, I knew what he meant to do.

  The jeweled dagger that Hindergog had given me was sheathed at my waist. I held the Sword of the Order in my hand, its blade still wet with the blood of the man I’d already killed.

  Dughall grabbed the sword from the sword belt of the dead man. It was a fat, well-worn broadsword. It wasn’t nearly as elegant of a weapon as the Singing Sword in my hand, but if I gave Dughall an opening, he’d be able to kill me with it.

  Dughall must have been stronger than his body looked. He had no problem picking up the large, heavy sword and he was able to hold it with one hand. Dughall wasted no time and lunged at me. I easily parried his attack and stepped to the side. His sword caught only air.

  His eyes were dark with anger as he slashed at me. I used my sword defensively and easily blocked his swing.

  “I am not your enemy, Dughall. I was only trying to help you.”

  “You lie. Your so-called Goddess is a spiteful wench. She sent you to shame me.”

  “No. That’s not how it is at all.”

  He thrust his blade at me again and nearly nicked me, but I stepped backward and his attempt to run me through missed by a few inches. Close call.

  I had stepped backward as far as I could. My back was against the wall of the tiny room. Dughall’s looked changed from anger to amusement. He could see that my back was against the wall.

  I chanced a quick look up to see if I could fly over him. The ceiling was too low. If I tried to perform a somersault, I’d end up bashing my head against the ceiling. My only option was to fight and hope that my new-found strength was enough to fend him off.

  Dughall came at me again with all the fire and fury that he had saved up and intended to unleash on the man who lie dead on the dirt floor. My arms moved as if on auto-pilot. I tried my best to be in the flow of things as Madame Wong had taught me. I was alert and aware.

  At least I thought that I was. But in a brief moment of inattention, Dughall’s heavy sword knocked the Sword of the Order out of my hands. It caught me by surprise and for a second, I thought myself a goner. But then something inside me clicked and I remembered the dagger sheathed at my waist.

  I moved to the side, dodged and ducked his attempts to kill me as I fumbled with the sheath at my waist. My hands were shaky as I tried to open the fabric fastener and retrieve the dagger. I kept moving as Dughall continued to swing at me. He landed a solid slice to my left arm and I could feel the warm blood trickling down my forearm and onto my hand. I finally got the clasp open and grabbed the dagger. Panic began to set in as I contemplated how I’d take out a man wielding a long sword with a short dagger.

  Size does not matter. Focus. Be one with Akasha.

  It was Madame Wong’s voice in my head. My months of meditating, of defending myself against the swats from her cane, the countless hours chopping wood. It had all been for that moment.

  I took a deep breath and tried my best to ground myself. I allowed the cleansing air to fill me as I focused on being one with the stream.

  Be one with Akasha.

  I could feel the air molecules move before I saw his blade come at me. My arms moved instinctively as I blocked his blow with the small but strong dagger.

  The sight stone on the hilt of the dagger began to glow and it changed from milky white to as clear as mountain water. In an instant, I could see in my mind’s eye what Dughall would do next. I knew what angle he’d come at me and I could see where my dagger needed to land.

  I thrust upward and knelt at the same time. I heard the whoosh of Dughall’s sword catching air as I felt my dagger find purchase in Dughall’s gut.

  My hand still held the dagger as Dughall fell to his knees. His face was nearly level with mine. His mouth was open with shock as he looked down at the wound that blossomed crimson through his shirt.

  “How?” he asked.

  I let go of the dagger and he fell over. He lay with his eyes open. I watched as he sucked in his last gasping breath then he breathed no more. His dark, brooding eyes were glassy and hollow.

  Before that day, I’d never killed anyone. But there I stood in a tiny room littered with the bodies of two lives I’d taken in one afternoon. My stomach roiled and lurched from the smell of blood, sweat and urine. I was nauseous too from the deed I’d done. Maybe it was right to kill Dughall. I had, after all, defended myself. But I still felt sick that I’d actually taken the life of another human being.

  I looked over and Dughall’s mother had fallen to her knees. She wept quietly.

  I didn’t know what to do or say. All I could think to say was, “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t want to have to kill your son.”

  “You do not need forgiveness. You did not kill my son,” she said. “My son died many years ago. This thing was a demon.”

  She crawled across the floor to his dead body and cradled him in her lap. “My poor, dear son.” Fresh tears broke out in her eyes and fell to his face. The tears made his stony face glisten in the late morning sun.

  I leaned against the wall and s
lid down. I’d willed myself not to puke, but I didn’t have the strength left to fight off the tears that threatened to fall. I felt fat tears slide down my cheeks.

  “Why do you weep?” she asked. “He was your enemy. He tried to kill you.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m crying because I should have hated him, but in the end, I felt sorry for him. Maybe it’s because I’ve been away from home for so long. Maybe it’s because I don’t know if my dad and my friends are out of danger or not. And maybe I’m crying because it seems like I prepared for this forever and now it’s over.”

  She didn’t say a word but gave me a brief warm smile. As I sat in that tiny room filled with the stench of two dead men, I could see why Dughall became the madman that he was. His mother was more than just a mom. She had a warmth, compassion and knowing about her that was rare. I could see why he loved her so much. A love that fierce can drive a person to do all kinds of crazy things.

  Before long we heard the sound of another person entering the small abode. “Dughall,” she said.

  It was, in fact, the young Dughall. He was about my age. The young Dughall didn’t have the hard-chiseled brooding look about him yet. And his hair wasn’t jet black but was instead flecked here and there with red highlights from the sun. His skin was bronzed by the southern Italian sun rather than alabaster white. His eyes were the same dark brown, but the eyes of the young Dughall were more playful and warm, less like two lumps of cold, unforgiving coal. If it wasn’t for the fact that I knew how he turned out all grown up, I might have thought he was cute.

  Without saying a word between us, Dughall’s mother and I settled on a story about the two dead bodies that didn’t include a future Dughall coming back in time. The young Dughall had no way of knowing that the large dead man was indeed himself from the future.

  Using my sight to guide me, I helped them escape their bondage and set out on a new life. Who knows, maybe it will turn out different for Dughall. He hadn’t, after all, had to endure watching his mother die.

  I said my goodbyes and prepared myself to go back to the Netherworld. I wanted to spend some more time with the Goddess before I went back to my own time. I still had a lot of questions for her. And like she said, I could jump back into my time whenever and wherever I liked. So why not stay a while longer, really figure some things out?

  I looked forward to getting answers and then a long rest. But you know, things don’t always work out like you plan.

  60. AFTERNOON AT THE HORROR MOVIES

  When I was ready to go, I got myself to a quiet spot on top of a hill dotted with cypress and olive groves. It was a beautiful place, and as I closed my eyes to mediate on my return to the Netherworld, I thought maybe I’d like to go back there some time. Maybe I’ll come back and check up on the young Dughall. If he’s going wonky again, I’ll kick him back to right.

  I concentrated on my breath as Madame Wong taught me but soon doubt crept into my mind. How do I return to the Netherworld? After all, the portal I used to enter it was far away from there and in another time. I wasn’t near any known vortex of energy.

  But I knew that doubt would prevent me from returning not only to the Netherworld but also to my own time. I focused all that I had on the Goddess. My mind held the image of her shimmery blue-green ever changing face. I concentrated on how I felt when I was with her. Soon, the peaceful feeling I’d had in her presence filled me. Match her frequency.

  When I felt like it was the right time, I opened my eyes. I blinked my eyes open and I was back in my kitchen where I’d first met Brighid. And she was there as well making chocolate chip pancakes.

  “I thought you might be hungry,” she said.

  From somewhere deep inside came long, riotous laughter. The kind where you think you might pee yourself.

  “Did I say something amusing, dear one?” she asked.

  “No, you didn’t. I’m sorry it’s just this whole situation. I’m still not sure any of it has been real. I may be in my tree house at home right now, asleep after the slap to my head from Muriel, and I’m in a delirium dreaming this whole thing.”

  “Yes, that is possible I suppose. But you are here with me, whether a dream or not, so you may as well eat.” I swung myself onto a stool at the counter and she placed a large plate of steaming pancakes in front of me.

  They were just as I liked them. Smothered in butter and dripping with maple syrup.

  After I wolfed down about a half-dozen pancakes, I was ready to ask some questions. I had so many questions still inside me. I wanted to ask why are we here? Where did we come from? Where will we go when we die? Is there a God? If so, where did he or she come from?

  “Yes, you have many questions.”

  “I want to know everything.”

  “I know you do, young one. In time, in time. You already know the answers to many of your questions if you allow the answers to come. Others you will find in time.”

  “I don’t feel like I know anything anymore.”

  “Good.”

  “Why is that good?”

  “Not knowing is closer to allowing the truth than knowing all.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that you’re not going to answer my questions right now.”

  She didn’t say anything but smiled at me.

  “Okay, but I have to get an answer to this one last question. Am I now a High Priestess?”

  “You have become a warrior and have learned some of the mysteries. But no, Miss Emily, you are not a High Priestess yet. Perhaps someday you will come back to the Netherworld and learn more of the mysteries of Akasha. Then, perhaps, you will become a High Priestess.”

  “I would like that.” I took a big gulp of café au lait to wash down the starchy cakes.

  “What now then?”

  “You return to your own space and time.”

  “But when in time do I go?

  “Ah, that is an excellent question. I think that this will help you decide.”

  In an instant, we were no longer in my kitchen but in the misty, foggy, timeless nowhereness of the Netherworld. And before us was what looked like the portal that I came through the first time. But instead of being a hole, it was more like a movie screen. I could see vague images appear out of the mist.

  “Watch Emily at the unfolding of critical events that have happened in your space-time while you have been in the Netherworld.”

  With a wave of her hand, the picture became clear. It was like I was watching the ghost of a movie. The images were there but with an ethereal shimmer. It was like they were there but not quite.

  As ephemeral as they were, the images showed me what had happened. I saw Fanny and Jake go to Dublin. I saw my dad on the plane and then meet up with them. He was no longer Zombie Man.

  It was hard to watch without feeling a ripping tide of emotion within me. I thought I was as good as dead to him. I had convinced myself that he didn’t care enough to look for me.

  I had been so wrong. I could see in the replay of a life that had happened without me that he did care. All he could think of was saving me. And he was helping out Jake and Fanny to boot. Go figure.

  As the scenes played out, it felt like they were moving faster and faster until at last I saw my dad, Fanny and Jake holed up in a little building at CERN. Then Dughall’s smirky face ran into the portal he created. After that, the images became downright frightening. The more I watched, the more it felt like I was watching it all unfold in real time.

  Mere seconds after Dughall ran through the portal, the portal exploded, ripping apart the magnificent giant magnet that had created it. The whole collider was in danger of a cascade of explosions as those particles that were accelerating through it and colliding with each other were backed up in a large packet, much larger than was ever anticipated by the designers of the machine.

  The portal that Dughall had created rapidly dissipated itself and became a nonfactor. The only thing to contend with there was the fire that raged due to the explosion. But up
the stream from super magnet number two it was a different story.

  As an observer of a story that had already unfolded, I watched in horror as the particle beams, now with many times more particles than expected, collided in collector number one. Conspiracy theorists had warned of the possibility of black holes being formed by the LHC, but the scientists had quickly dismissed any concerns. Scientists had said that because the collider smashed extremely small bits of particles, any black holes that formed would be extremely small and would burn themselves out before they became larger than a subatomic particle.

  No worries.

  Apparently not one of the scientists had anticipated the possibility that some idiot like Dughall would not only be able to successfully infiltrate their security, but use their machine to create an anomaly and the conditions ripe for the formation of a black hole worth worrying about. Time to worry.

  I watched in horror as the hole became larger and larger, sucking in the matter of the machine that had created it. Up top, I saw my dad working feverishly with the other scientists to come up with a solution to stop it while Fanny and Jake sat in the corner of the main control room looking on worriedly.

  “Come on guys, it’s now or never. There has to be a way,” he said. “This thing is getting away from us.”

  “We know Liam, but there just isn’t enough energy left in this thing to pulse it again,” offered one of the scientists.

  “What else can we use, dammit?”

  They were all silent for a moment. Even through the vacuum of space and time I swear I could hear their brain cells vibrating with thought.

  “What about anti-matter?” offered a tentative voice.

  “What? Who said that?” said Liam.

  “Me Sir.” It was none other than Mr. Ted Schaeffer.

  “Anti-matter. Okay, thoughts. Could it work?”

  “Well, theoretically it could work,” said a scientist. “But the problem is, if we put together all the anti-matter ever produced on the whole planet and were able somehow to get it down there – which we couldn’t do without dying because the temperatures down there are still -200° – well, it wouldn’t be enough to do diddly.”