Edgard was beyond hope. The Master sat in the Council Room day in and day out, drinking copious amounts of wine, speaking in quiet tones with Barry of Sussex at times and his grandsons at others. He had been doing well enough until Galindwynne and Alexander Corrigan had arrived. They had made some progress in retracing and putting together the events that had occurred prior to their arrival at the Villa. Each of them remembered different details and Lavon had put a great deal of effort into sorting it all out, putting together a coherent picture.
But during the evening meal, Matthew and Thaddeus Champlain had burst into the dining hall to announce that a woman and King Corrigan of the Tuathans were at the swimming pool waiting to speak with him. When Edgard had gone out to learn what had now occurred, he was shocked beyond measure to see the very woman who had knocked him from his horse so long ago in the distance past. Corrigan’s mother. He had finally comes to terms with that just before sunrise and then he had discovered that she was none other than Galindwynne, the old witch from the meadow in the underworld. This had been too much. Corrigan had demanded explanations, of course, blaming the Templars for the entire fiasco. Eventually, the Tuathan and his mother had taken a room in the Knight’s quarters together and kept their own counsel. Each night, Galindwynne transformed into the beautiful ‘washer at the river’, the Morrigan. Edgard could not help but walk down to the pool every evening after sundown and sit on the patio, staring at her room longingly. But he would not discuss it with anyone.
Now they were disappearing again. One at a time. Oriel had been the first to go. A dreadful blow. And then Thaddeus and now, the latest missing persons report indicated that Barry of Sussex was gone. Simon had been unable to comfort his daughter after the disappearance of her husband.
“We were in the desert. We were trying to get home.” Simon went over the basics of the story they had pieced together. “We were lost. Hungry. Thirsty. We fell in a hole. I remember that. It was terrible. Falling and falling.”
“Yes. I remember the fall as well.”
“There were others there.” Simon slapped his forehead. “If Konrad were here he could look in my mind and see what it was.”
“Konrad. We were looking for Konrad!” Lavon perked up, adding another piece to the puzzle.
“It seems he is still lost,” Simon lamented and drank some more of the tea. “This is very good, Lavon. But where is Konrad? Why can’t Meredith use her powers? She must have powers. Where is Mark Ramsay or whoever he is?”
“She says that she has nothing.”
“And my father? I thought he was an angel. Why can’t he do something?” Simon frowned.
“You’re taking this too hard, Brother. It is not your fault. If Meredith can do nothing, then it is unlikely that your father can do anything. It is unlikely that anyone can do anything. Whoever or whatever is keeping us here is extremely powerful. My powers… that is, my mystery is completely blocked. I tried some scrying just this morning and I could see absolutely nothing,” Lavon lowered his voice and leaned close to the healer. “I think… I’m not sure, but I think that we are not in Kansas anymore.”
“Kansas?” Simon looked alarmed. “Were we in Kansas before?”
“Sacre bleu!” Lavon slapped his forehead. “Do you never watch the movies, my friend?”
“There are none here,” Simon shook his head sadly. “I wanted to watch Casablanca and eat popcorn the other night with Lydia. You know, try to forget for a while. She is suffering, Lavon, but what has that to do with Kansas?”
“Never mind,” Lavon stood up. “Let’s get you back to your room. I’ll see what I can do about the movie.”
Simon’s face lit up and Lavon helped him to his feet.
(((((((((((((
Levi had nothing to use for a weapon except his bare hands. He charged down the side of the little bluff toward the beast, screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to distract it from its purpose. His only plan was to hit the thing, knock into the swirling pool at the base of the falls. After that, he had no idea what would happen, but he hoped that Thaddeus would have enough time to get his mother away from the bank and out of danger.
“Noooo!” Oriel screamed as her brother stampeded directly into the side of the brute with which she had been arguing for what seemed hours.
Thaddeus threw himself at Levi, trying to stop the veritable locomotive of humanity bearing down on Marduk’s horrible sidekick. Oriel had caught it looming over the side of the pristine little pool, trying to grab the water nymphs out of the depths. Thaddeus had tried to stop his mother from accosting the terrible brute, but Oriel would not stand by and watch the thing devour the pretty little faeries. Even after it had introduced itself as Zaguri, the Destroyer, Friend of Marduk, Lord of the Sixth Gate, she had not desisted. They had argued for a long time about the sanctity of life and the bad practice of eating sentient beings. Zaguri had made some good points at first, claiming that he was merely an instrument of God sent to cleanse the little pool of an overabundance of water nymphs. He went on and on about how the faeries were trapped in the pool and could not go up the falls, nor could they find a way out through the depths of the pool that had no overflowing brook, but drained somewhere into the Abyss where they would meet horrible fates. If they continued to divide and multiply in the tiny pool, they would certainly starve to death or turn to cannibalism for survival. He sounded like an expert, but Oriel would not buy it. She had insisted that he was not an instrument of God at all, but a vile creature from the Abyss, himself, in the service of one of the most malicious, most malignant Demi-gods ever to set foot upon the earth. Zaguri had listened to her insult his Master for a long time before smiling slowly at her, showing his double row of razor sharp teeth. Thaddeus was sure that they would both die for sure, but Zaguri seemed to actually like Oriel. He had leered at her, loomed over her, made obsequious, but detestable plays for her understanding.
Just when it actually looked as if Oriel would win the argument and Zaguri would be repulsed by her obstinate refusal to back down, Levi James had appeared at the top of the falls, shouting and waving his arms frantically. Neither of them knew where he had come from. In fact, they had no idea where they had come from. They had simply found themselves walking together through a shady grove of birch trees, disoriented and frightened.
Thaddeus missed his uncle by a foot. Levi slammed into the muscular shoulder of the beast and his plan worked perfectly. They seemed to fly through the air in slow motion. Oriel screamed again, Levi was still screaming and the creature bellowed in surprise and rage. The impact knocked most of the water out of the pool, along with all of the nymphs that Oriel had been trying to save. To her consternation, the tiny creatures immediately took to the air and flew up and away over the falls, screaming tiny screams of their own. Zaguri’s story had been a complete fabrication. She and Thaddeus were on their hands and knees by the pool, shouting for Levi when he broke the surface. Thaddeus reached for his hand and tried to drag him out of the rapidly refilling pool. He splashed desperately and almost made the shore before screaming once and then plunging back under the surface. Oriel screamed again and Thaddeus grabbed the thin air. Oriel had to catch him to keep him from falling in as well. They were trying to scuttle backwards when the monster came up, floundering and splashing, screaming in terror.
“He can’t swim!!” Thaddeus shouted.
The thing’s long claws scraped the rocks, leaving long grooves of naked stone in the moss covering.
It shouted, screamed, gurgled, sank, came up again, sank again, and then floated face down, almost filling the entire pool.
“I’ll go!” Thaddeus shouted and prepared to jump in search of Levi.
“No!!” Oriel did not want to lose a son and a brother at once.
Thaddeus pushed her away and pulled off his boots, but he did not have to jump. Levi popped up beside the beast and used its body as a step to climb out of the pool.
He soon stood, gasping and dripping next to
them. They kissed each other profusely and cried and hugged and cried some more until Thaddeus suggested that they get away from the pool. It was highly unlikely that the beast was truly dead.
They hugged each other as they hurried away. When they were under the trees again, they found a faint trail hollowed out in the leaf mould.
“I don’t know what happened,” Levi told them when he could speak again. “I don’t know how I got here.”
“Neither do we,” Oriel told him. “I wish I knew where here is and where to go from here.”
“How about that way?” Thaddeus stopped them and pointed to the left.
Attached to the trunk of one of the birch trees was a red and white striped arrow with yellow and black balloons attached to it.
“What in the world is this?” Levi approached the thing cautiously.
Under the arrow was a brightly colored sign that said ‘This Way to Reunion’.
“Reunion?” Oriel looked up at her sizable little brother.
“Like a party?” Thaddeus frowned. He grasped the ribbons holding the balloons and pulled them from the arrow.
“Don’t touch it, Thad,” Oriel hissed and looked about under the trees. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t know what else to do, Orri,” Levi shuddered. He was soaking wet and darkness was creeping under the thick forest. “We don’t have much choice.”
A rumbling roar behind them changed everything.
“We don’t have any choices,” Thaddeus drew his sword from its scabbard and grabbed his mother’s hand. Oriel, herself, looked like a faery, running between the two men. Every now and then one of both of them lifted her high above downed logs and brush like a small child.
(((((((((((((
“Abaddon, Abaddon,” Inanna ran after the dark angel. “Please, this is not necessary. Adar will not be back!”
“It doesn’t matter,” the Scorpion Lord shook her off. “He has restored me. I owe him my gratitude if nothing else. And he has even restored you to me.”
“But if you pursue this mad course, you will not have me,” she pleaded with him. “I will be alone again.”
“I will succeed.”
He strode through the shadows under the towering pines.
“But I should go with you,” she said. “I can help you.”
“You will only worry and impede me. I will be more apt to fail if I am overwrought because of your presence. It is what I must do. It is what will restore me to God’s favor.”
Inanna stopped him forcefully and turned him to face her. Tears streamed down her face.
“Is this what Adar told you? Would you plumb the depths of hell? Would you face death Abaddon? Have you given this any thought? Do you know what it would be to die? To face death?”
“I have already done that, my love,” he smiled at her. “You were kind enough to give me the first tour of death’s door. Uriel gave me another.”
“You would give your life to prove to him that you are worthy of his trust?” She asked.
“I would,” he answered her simply.
“Then Adar is an even greater teacher than I had imagined,” her voice gained strength and her tears dried up as she realized the futility of her pleas. She rose up slightly and kissed his lips lightly. “God will surely be with you, Abaddon.”
“He was with me in the past. Let us hope that He has not forgotten His Angel of the Bottomless Pit.”
Inanna stood where she was and watched until he was out of sight under the cover of the trees. He had come to this remote mountain top to make his preparations and she had followed. Now she would return to the desert and wait. If he never returned, she would remain in her lair until she turned to stone in her grief and loneliness. Her mind was made up. Adar had done her a great disservice by bringing her up from the depths of the cold sea only to leave her heart exposed to the cold reality of knowledge without power of understanding. Adar had taught her the meaning of love and then restored the opportunity to use that love in the most profound manner, selfless love. She would not stop Abaddon from fulfilling his destiny even though it might destroy him and, in the process, destroy her as well. She would not interfere even though she could have easily kept him with her in eternal sleep. In her heart, she knew that this was the right thing to do and never before had she ever considered right and wrong, good and evil as applied to her own existence. She had given up much, but gained incalculable wealth. Knowledge without understanding. All she needed was the ability to understand what she had learned. If it took a thousand years, she would learn why Abaddon was doing what he was doing. She would learn why Adar had changed so profoundly and why she had changed her own mind about devouring Abaddon when she found him suffering, perhaps dying, in the desert. He had certainly deserved no less a sorry fate.
Chapter Eleven of Sixteen
Hast thou an arm like God?
Michael sat on the tip of one of Leviathan’s wings or fins; he was not sure what to call it. He ate honey-coated walnuts covered with sunflower seeds from a small pouch that Armand had given him. The stuff was delicious. One of Armand’s inventions no doubt. He could see the castle from where he sat with the healer busily working on arranging his newly replenished bag of healing supplies. The little fellow was completely absorbed in wrapping bundles of herbs, flowers and various barks and twigs in soft cloth also provided by Armand’s beautiful wife. But Michael was also absorbed, eating his walnuts absently as he watched a lonely figure sitting a few hundred yards away in the grass. Whoever it was wore a long blue mantel and her face was covered by a deep hood. She had wandered about the meadow in front of Armand’s castle, gathering wild flowers in a willow basket until she had filled the vessel with a variety of colored blooms. Then she had sat down in the grass and begun to make bouquets, bracelets and necklaces and garlands. Michael had watched with great fascination. Her movements and nuances were very familiar.
At last he gave the remainder of his snack to the Tuathan and walked casually across the meadow. Curiosity had gotten the best of him. She did not look up or acknowledge him until he was almost directly upon her.
He stopped a few feet away, but said nothing. She laid aside the wild violets that she had been braiding into a chain and looked up at him.
“Mother!” The word escaped his lips and he took an automatic step backwards. All the warnings he had heard about her in his younger days came back with crystal clarity.
“Sit down, Michael,” she patted the grass beside her and smiled at him with his own smile. “You make an old woman nervous standing over her like that.”
Michael stared at her speechless. He had seen her at the Djinni’s banquet table but had managed to take a seat far down the table near Gregory and Nicholas. She had focused her attention on him several times, but he had managed to avoid making eye contact with her. At last he had been greatly relieved when his uncle Mark had dragged her and Lemarik and Omar off with John Paul.
“Come on, Michael, surely we’ve come further than that,” she continued to smile but the hurt was visible in her eyes. Mark Andrew’s eyes. If he blurred his eyes, he could have almost imagined that it was Mark Andrew sitting there in his borrowed purple cloak. At the thought of Mark Andrew, came thoughts of Galen Zachary. They’d been inseparable for years and years uncounted. He had no idea what year it was and thought it really mattered very little any more. What mattered was the empty hole in his heart where Galen had fit. He nodded as if to reassure himself that he was, indeed, a grown man and that he could sit in the grass with his mother without being afraid of what she might do.
“That’s better,” she picked up the violets and resumed her work. She pushed back her hood and put the garland on her head. She looked no more than twenty-five or thirty at the oldest. He felt craggy sitting next to her and she smelled like a spring breeze.
“Mother,” he said the word again with less shock. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She looked up at him and then began to make another
daisy chain.
“For being afraid of you,” he said candidly and felt better for it.
“Afraid of me? Were you really afraid of me? Or were you simply afraid that what my brother told you about me was true?”
“I’m sure it had the same effect,” he smiled slightly and picked up one of her garlands. “These are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she continued to work on the stems, weaving them in and out expertly.
“Where did you learn to do this?” He asked and glanced back at Selwig. The Tuathan was still working on his yellow bag.
“When I lived in the palace of Omar here there was very little to do and a great deal of time to do it,” she told him. “One of the bean tighes taught me. The faeries are wonderful creatures, Michael. I didn’t appreciate them then.”
“Youth robs us of our senses and when we become sensible, we are too old to enjoy the peace it brings,” he said and plucked one of the sweet grass stems.
“You are not old Michael,” she stopped working and took his chin in her hand. “You are beautiful to me. You will never grow older than you are now. At least I was able to give you one gift.”
“Is immortality truly a gift, I wonder?” He looked into her eyes. “Do you think so?”
“I know nothing else,” she shook her head minutely. “You have your father’s eyes. I never noticed that before. I’m sorry, Michael. Things should have been different. If my father had seen fit to take his children in hand, things would have been different.”
“If Uncle Mark had taken his children in hand, Mother, I would not be here,” he told her without bitterness.
“That’s very true,” she looked down at the basket and twirled one of her curls around her finger.
The Perfect Sun Page 22