The Perfect Sun

by Brendan Carroll

  “Yes, yes, but that was long ago. Besides, do not be fooled by Galindwynne’s tricks, my son. Looks are sometimes very deceiving.”

  “Then you intend to invite Luke Andrew and Mark Andrew as well?” He asked after a while.

  “Of course,” she nodded. “And Michael Ramsay, too. He will be my granddaughter’s half-nephew as soon as she marries the King. Luke Andrew and Mark Andrew, the mortal Mark Andrew, are both related to Il Dolce Mio and Jozsef Daniel. John Paul is my great-granddaughter-in-law’s husband, and Gregory and Nicholas are my great-great-grandsons. Michelle is my great-great-granddaughter and my granddaughter-in-law as well being Apolonio’s wife. We should be very close. All of us.”

  “Surely you could find no kinship to Adar… not really.” He thought he had her. His was the last name on the list.

  “I thought not at first,” she told him and her dark eyes sparkled. “But then I realized he will be Polly’s grandfather-in-law, and Lily Ramsay will be her grandmother-in-law in one respect, and he will be her father-in-law if you look at it another way. It takes a great deal of effort to keep the bloodlines straight when dealing with Royalty.”

  “I see.” Konrad picked up the list and went down it once more. He noticed many names attached to persons he considered dead, but dared not ask about them. “Omar, the Prophet? I have to hear this one. How is Omar, the Prophet, part of your family?”

  “His is my granddaughter-in-law’s brother and that makes him William von Hetz’ brother-in-law. He is also my step-great-granddaughter-in-law’s father. You know Aurora, Konrad. She is the daughter of Omar and Nicole Ramsay. That makes Nicole a part of the family as well in that respect even as she is King Il Dolce Mio’s half-sister, Vanni’s daughter’s half-sister-in-law to be. You may as well give up, son. My logic is impeccable. I have already had these arguments with your step-father.”

  “My step-father?” Konrad’s eyes grew wide and his sobriety was returning with a vengeance and a headache.

  “Nergal, silly,” she patted his hand. “You might not want to call him Daddy, however. He prefers Lord Nergal under most conditions. You see, he doesn’t really care for children and he has but the one name.”

  Konrad sat thinking about these things for a long time. Lord Nergal: Daddy? Absurd!

  “And did you snare Christopher Stewart as well?” He asked at last.

  “Ahhh. I’m afraid so,” she sighed. “He is not family. I picked up four unexpected guests as a matter of fact. But I am not without a beneficent bone, my son. I can be generous and gracious. I learned it in the overworld as proprietress of a nice little bed and breakfast.”

  “Oh?” Konrad raised both eyebrows and then frowned. He must have missed something somewhere. “Might I ask who else will be coming?”

  “That blasted angel of light, Lucifer,” she frowned. “He is such a boor. And there was a soldier with them. I don’t know his name. And an old friend of yours.”

  “Of mine? Who?”

  “Ernst Schweikert.”

  “Anything else I need to be aware of?” He asked in a small voice.

  “Not really. Do you think I need to invite Lord Marduk?”

  “For God’s sake why would you?” He asked.

  “He is Levi d’Ornan’s father-in-law, and I have invited Menaka. She might feel slighted if I leave her father out of things. He seems quite lonely at times.”

  “Good Lord!” Konrad grabbed his tankard and turned it up. “We can’t have that now, can we? Sure, sure. Go ahead and send out the invitation at once.”

  He wiped the foam from his mustache onto his sleeve and smiled idiotically at her. In return, she hugged him tightly and patted his head and assured him without saying a word that he was truly losing his mind.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  When the brilliant light had faded, so had Simon of Grenoble and Lavon de Bleu. The members of the trapped party searched the confines as thoroughly as possible without losing sight of each other. The chamber was extremely vast and they were afraid to become separated.

  Edgard had intervened between Louis, Luke Matthew and Ernst Schweikert, striking a temporary truce while they searched out their surroundings and looked for the missing members. They had returned to what they reckoned to be the center of the chamber and gathered together in fairly tight group.

  There was nothing they could do except draw straws to see who would venture out of sight to inspect the unknown depths of their dilemma.

  Little Barry produced a miniature version of the straw box and they passed around the ornate little box four times. The Fox sergeant, General Schweikert and Lucifer were not allowed to participate. After four passes, they had three members ready to go.

  Luke Matthew, Christopher Stewart and Louis Champlain. Oddly enough, none of the d’Ornans drew the short straws and Edgard was highly suspicious they were not acting of their own free wills. He made known his concerns and expressed the opinion the drawing had been somehow rigged, but Luke would hear nothing of it. He thought it best the three of the remaining members not related to one another should go. According to Luke, it would take unnecessary pressure off the party and allow them to operate in a more professional manner. He was just glad Thaddeus and the younger members of the Order would not be going. He had a very bad feeling about what they might find.

  They said their goodbyes and started off without thought to direction. The surviving compasses were useless. The needles turned slowly like the second hands of oversized pocket watches. The least that could happen was they would walk in circles and come directly back to the main group. The worst that could happen was they would never see the main group again and continue wandering in oblivion forever.

  Christopher kept glancing over his shoulder as they walked away, watching the milling group grow smaller and smaller behind them.

  “Either of you have any thoughts about this place?” He asked after a while. They had taken to speaking in whispers due to the excessive echoing in the chamber.

  “I know I don’t like it, and I have a bad feeling about it,” Louis told him. “I think we are in the Abyss.”

  “That much is sure,” Luke Matthew agreed. “I believe someone is definitely responsible for placing us here. There is no other explanation for our survival of the fall. You saw the horses.”

  “I know,” Christopher nodded. All the horses had been terribly mangled and twisted, all dead before they impacted the smooth stone floor. Four of the soldiers had met the same fate. Ernst and the sergeant had theorized that their survival had been incidental to having had none of the others fall on them.

  “I have lived inside a dragon’s head and thought it all a dream,” Luke told them.

  “I have lived in dreams and thought them reality,” Louis whispered, referring to the horrid torments he had suffered at the hands of Ernst Schweikert. “You saw the residual effects of it back there.”

  “I saw you trying to kill the General.” Christopher chuckled slightly.

  “It was no laughing matter,” Louis sighed. “I only wish that I could have succeeded. Why him? Why, of all the people in creation, why him?”

  “That is simply proof this is a contrived situation. Not accidental at all.” Luke stopped and looked up at the three orbs overhead. “If I didn’t know better, I would believe we are being manipulated like so many characters in a cheap novel. Those are not natural lights, but they are extremely far away.”

  “Maybe they are some of Lucifer’s friends,” Christopher suggested as he stared up at the luminescent bodies.

  “You may not be far off the mark,” Louis agreed as they started on their way again.

  Nothing changed for a long time as their footsteps continued to echo endlessly. Christopher was lost in his own thoughts when he bumped into Louis Champlain. The King of the Franks had stopped without warning.

  “Shhh.” He pressed one finger against Christopher’s lips. “Do you hear that?”

  His voice was a mere breath. Christopher could hear
nothing but the alarming sound of Luke Matthew’s boots walking away from them in the dim light.

  Before he could react, Louis began to run away from him. Away from Luke.

  “Wait!” Christopher shouted after him and his own voice screamed back at him from a dozen different directions. He turned and searched the gloom for Luke. The King of the Brits was running back toward him with his sword over his head.

  “Nooo!” Christopher held up one hand and then leaped aside, landing hard on his side, as Luke thundered past him as if he did not exist.

  When the Knight of the Holy City stopped rolling across the floor and regained his senses, he was alone. The echoes finally faded and only the sound of his heart and a very faint rustling of an unknown source filled his ears and caused his heart to freeze. He’d lost them. Both of them! Or else, they had lost him. He stood up and straightened his jacket and looked around. A white envelope lay on the floor a few yards away. The same envelope addressed to Dan d’Ornan. He scooped it up again carelessly and put it back in his pocket. He had to try to find his way back to the Master and the others. He listened hard and then set off in the direction in which he seemed to hear distinct noises. Within the space of a few minutes, Christopher learned the worst. He saw a glowing light and made directly for it. What he found made his heart sink. Lucifer was the source of the light, but there were none left to share it with him other than Ernst Schweikert and the very frightened Fox sergeant, David Runnels. They immediately ran out to meet him when he appeared out of the darkness and their movements and voices set up a reverberating cacophony. Only the angel’s voice did not echo.

  “My son.” He clasped Christopher’s ears in his hands and the echoes ceased immediately. “What did you learn? Where are the others?”

  “I lost them… they lost me,” he lamented. “Where is the Master? He didn’t leave us, did he?”

  “I’m afraid he did,” Lucifer told him and held him close as he burst into tears of frustration. “And he apparently took his kinsmen with him.”

  “How are we going to find them?” Christopher sniffed and looked up at the glowing angelic face, which was covered with recently healed cuts and fading bruises.

  “We must leave this place,” Lucifer told him and turned toward Ernst. “Come, come, my boy. Allow me to heal you.”

  “Stay away from me!” Ernst shouted as he backed away from him and then clamped his hands over his ears. The noise was horrendous and the sergeant did not help anything by beginning to scream as the sound overwhelmed him.

  Lucifer caught the sergeant by the arms and helped him to his feet. The soldier stood next to Christopher, trembling in fear as the angel pressed his hands over his ears. He smiled in relief when the awful noise assaulting his ears ceased abruptly.

  Ernst tried to run, but Lucifer caught him easily, forcing him to take the healing he offered.

  When their nerves were a bit less shaken, they sat down on the cool stone to sort out their situation.

  “Let me say this,” Lucifer told them after they had commiserated for several minutes. “If you wish to leave this place, it is simple.”

  “All right then, if you know so much.” The General stood up. “Show us.”

  Lucifer looked up at the three distant orbs and closed his eyes tightly, concentrating all of his strength on the task at hand. A few moments passed and then they seemed to fall from their places. Lucifer smiled broadly, relieved to learn he still had a few powers left to him. His entire sojourn so far had been quite painful. Where before he had suffered not the day to day aches, pains and diseases of the human form, he now sported various scars, pulled ligaments and swollen joints from unfortunate accidents and over-extended muscles. He had a definite limp when he walked. The blisters on his heels and toes had broken and formed painful sores, but they were finally healing with the application of bandages and clean socks.

  The sight of the falling lights was too much for the sergeant. Runnels screamed again and tried to run, but Lucifer caught him by the foot, bringing him down. Christopher and Schweikert stood perfectly still as the three glowing objects settled to the floor only a few yards away.

  “What are they?” Christopher asked in a hoarse whisper.

  “I think you might call them portals. Yes, doors, they are doors.”

  “To where?” The General asked and moved a few steps closer to one of them.

  “We will not know until we pass through.” Lucifer shrugged.

  “I’m not going in there. I’ve heard about these things!” The sergeant shouted at them. “Don’t go into the light. We’re trapped here. Dead! We died in the fall. Don’t you see? These are the lights. After you die, they come for you. One will lead to hell, one to heaven and one back to life.”

  “So what’s the problem?” The General snarled at the sergeant. “Anything is better than here and I’ve been to hell before. It’s not as bad as you might think.”

  The sergeant stared at him in terror.

  “I don’t think that is accurate,” Lucifer frowned and shook his head. “But I suggest we choose one and move on. I cannot announce my glad tidings unless I have someone to announce it to and time is wasting as they say.”

  “Let’s take the center one,” Christopher suggested. “I’ve been told to look for balance. Never take the extreme unless there is no other choice.”

  “I like your reasoning, Sir Knight.” Ernst grinned and walked toward the middle orb. Soon he was nothing more than a misshapen black silhouette against the glare.”

  “Well, let’s go.” Christopher said brightly as he started off. When he looked back, he saw Lucifer hefting the unconscious sergeant to one shoulder. How the soldier had come to be unconscious, he had no idea, but he did not intend to be left behind again. He paused briefly and waited for Lucifer to catch up with him before stepping into the light.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Ashmodel picked up his robes and ran through the grass after Uriel and his three companions. He did not like the idea of leaving Leviathan out in the open. The huge creature lay flat in the grass behind him, a black shadow on the moonlit meadow. To Ashmodel, this meadow looked exactly like the one at Uriel’s worldly home in the land he called Scotland.

  Selwig was elated to be back in the underworld. He had already gathered a number of fresh herbs and flower heads for his bag as he hopped and skipped and ran alongside his taller companions. Mark Andrew was slightly ahead of them, leading the way toward the hulking outline of his old castle. He would look for Armand de Bleu and see if he knew anything. Halfway across the field, Mark held up one hand. Something was not quite right here. He could see the dark lines of the old castle outlined against the deep purple sky beyond the sea cliff, but there was something else there, something unfamiliar: A slender spire, capped by the distinctive onion dome shape from the Far East.

  He bade them wait for him while he ran the rest of the way to the castle to make sure it was safe to approach. As he neared the castle, he saw that the spire and dome were not attached to the castle itself, but rather looming up from somewhere below the cliff. Here he had found his son’s new home, the Djinni’s latest safehouse. He sighed with relief and signaled the others to join him. His relief was short-lived when he saw only three figures hurrying toward him across the grassy plain.

  Michael was out of breath when he arrived shortly ahead of Ashmodel.

  “Galen is gone!” He sputtered. “Gone! Just like that.”

  “Ashmodai?” Mark turned to his old friend with the unspoken question.

  “I was helping the little one pick thistles. They stick his fingers mercilessly, nasty things,” Ashmodel explained calmly. “Lo and behold, the young one was there one moment and gone the next. A miracle.”

  Mark let out a sharp snort of disbelief and turned to the Tuathan.

  “Did you see anything, Selwig?” Mark asked as he knelt in front of the frightened healer.

  “I was trying to wrap the thistles, Master. I’m sorry,” Selwig
shook his golden red head.

  “We have to search for him,” Michael said and stood on tip toe scanning the plain. Nothing broke the horizon all the way to the woods.

  “There is more here than meets the eye,” Mark muttered and looked back at the darkened castle. Armand or his people should have been out to meet them already, but nothing moved in the dark windows. No lights shown anywhere in the structure. “It would be futile to look for him just now. We’ll go on and see what there is to see. Stay together. Do not linger over anything and keep a sharp eye out.”

  They started off again, staying very close together this time, saddened, frightened and suspicious. No one was found at the castle. It looked very recently lived in, but there were no living creatures there other than birds, reptiles and insects. They left through the kitchen and out the rear courtyard where they found sheep and cattle, ducks and chickens, but no faeries, no humans. At the edge of the cliff, they found a white marble staircase built close to the rock wall, leading down to the Djinni’s white palace. They could see the bulk of the smooth structure clinging to the cliff below. There were numerous lights and even the faint sounds of music and voices drifting up to join the calling seabirds flying and swooping around the cliffs.

  Mark Andrew cautioned them again to stay close, and they started down the stairs together.

  The stairs let them out onto the top or roof of the main part of the structure. They looked for guards, windows, doors, some way to get inside the place, but there was nothing. Just an ornate balustrade made of carved limestone to keep them from accidentally slipping over the side. Mark even tried hailing the onion domed turrets atop the spires, but received no acknowledgment for his efforts.

  “I cannot believe the Djinni would leave his roof unguarded,” Mark said as he leaned over the railing. He could hear laughter and individual voices as if a feast or dinner were going on somewhere below. Golden light spilled onto a balcony several feet below them.

  “What do you make of those symbols on the wall there, Papa?” Michael nodded his head toward three arched niches carved in the living rock of the cliff. Graceful symbols in black paint scrolled across the rear of each niche. Ashmodel and Selwig were examining them again. They were the only things on the roof of interest. The niches looked as if they should have statues or potted plants in them.