Stealing Sacred Fire

by Storm Constantine

  Mani’s voice was soporific; the more Daniel listened, the more his eyes felt heavy. He needed sleep so badly. From outside came the distant rhythms and wails of the Yarasadi music; now it was plaintive and eerie, like an invocation.

  Mani set light to the crumbled leaves and a thick, stinging smoke arose from the bowl. ‘Breathe deep, Daniel,’ he said.

  Daniel leaned over the bowl and inhaled. His eyes began to water copiously as the thick, bitter smoke filled his nose, searing up inside his head. Whatever Mani burned within the bowl was extremely potent. After only a few moments, Daniel felt so dizzy he had to lie down beside the pool. Fighting nausea, he rested his head right on the edge of the rock, so that his hair trailed in the water.

  ‘Be still,’ Mani murmured and reached out to sprinkle a powdery substance over Daniel’s body. ‘The sleep that Khidir brings is a blessing. He will touch you with dreams.’ He leaned forward and slowly stirred the glinting water with one hand, so that a ring of ripples lapped towards Daniel’s face.

  Daniel could barely keep his eyes open. All he could see of the pool was a shifting surface of sparkling stars.

  Mani’s voice seemed to come from very far away. ‘Sleep, now. Sleep and dream.’

  The voice died away, absorbed by the music of the water. Daniel was alone. His eyes were barely open now and, as he blinked, it seemed the light in the cave became dimmer. The stars upon the water went out, one by one. In the dark, he felt his body stir, independently of his mind. He could not move his arms, which seemed paralysed by his side, and his legs were pressed firmly together in muscular spasm. His body flopped and wriggled like a landed fish. He edged gradually towards the pool, until he slid into it without causing a single ripple and the water closed over his head.

  Daniel swam, undulating his body. A fast current pulled him along. Water was sucked into his lungs; he breathed it. A low, humming sound filled his head. He swam for an eternity, yet it seemed like a single instant. There was no light. Then, it seemed as if the darkness was dissipating and a dim radiance appeared in the distance, ahead of him. Daniel swam towards it. He could not feel his body; perhaps he was nothing more than a spark of consciousness. The light loomed larger and brighter in his sight and he no longer had to swim; the current dragged him onwards. He spiralled in the water, turning over and over, dragged towards the underwater sun. At its centre, a shadowed core pulsed in time to his heart-beat; a solid shape within the light. As he drew closer, he could see that it was an immense serpent, resting with raised head upon its coils, surrounded by a greenish aura of light. Daniel thought at first that it was a stone idol, but then he saw the creature move, sway its gargantuan head from side to side. It seemed unimaginably ancient, a prototype of all the serpent gods. It radiated power, and Daniel could sense that not all of it was benign. This was ancient wisdom, but it also had the capacity for ultimate evil, or ultimate amorality. Daniel resisted being drawn towards it, terrified his personality would be eclipsed by it, swallowed whole. He tried to move his limbs, to fight the strong current, but any movement on his part only seemed to increase the speed of his forward flight. He was afraid he would be dashed against the serpent’s immense body and destroyed.

  The current carried him relentlessly upwards now, towards the serpent’s head. Daniel was filled with an instinctive fear so profound, it struck at the most primitive core of his mind. He felt like the first human who had ever beheld the ineffable countenance of a god. The eyes of the serpent spat sparks of viridian radiance. As Daniel grew closer, it uttered a roaring hiss and opened its mouth; a lightless maw so vast it could have swallowed five men in one gulp.

  Unable to scream or save himself, Daniel was sucked into the serpent’s jaws.

  He was aware of falling downwards, incredibly fast, within what seemed to be a waterfall. Scalding hot and freezing cold liquid splashed around him, but did not arrest his flight. There was no light at all. He could have been tumbling through the void of the universe. Daniel closed his eyes, praying for the vision to end. It was too real, too terrifying. He dreaded the moment of impact.

  Then, without warning, he was simply floating. For some moments, he lay perfectly still, eyes closed, hardly daring to breathe. He could hear the lap of water and sensed fresh air upon his face. When he opened his eyes, he found that he was floating, belly down, in a cool, refreshing pool. His vision seemed abnormal, as if he saw the world through eyes that were not his own. His body too felt unfamiliar; constricted yet fluid. He could not feel his arms and legs and could only move by wriggling his shoulders and spine; an action that produced swift movement and propelled him forwards across the surface of the water. He realised he was a water snake, no longer human at all.

  Daniel swam to the nearest bank and slithered up it onto a flat lawn of short grass. He raised his upper body and surveyed the scene around him, tasting its scent with his flickering tongue. A waterfall plashed down into the pool, which lay at the base of a cliff, surrounded by a lush garden. Large, exotic flowers of every hue exuded a heavy, sensual perfume. Wide-leafed ferns collared the trunks of immense primordial trees, whose bushy crowns rustled and swayed high above. The garden was filled with a dazzling, unearthly light, but his serpent eyes were not blinded by it.

  One tree in particular drew Daniel’s attention. It was hung with garlands of wild flowers and coloured ribbons. Daniel felt compelled to approach it. As he did so, a tall figure emerged from the foliage beside the tree. The figure shone with a blazing white light and stood gazing down at Daniel with eyes that emitted a piercing blue radiance. Daniel recognised him at once. It was Shemyaza, his hair cascading down over his breast. He wore a white robe that was slashed at the sides to the waist, revealing braids of ribs and muscle and his feet were adorned in sandals of intricately-worked golden leather. ‘Daniel,’ he said. ‘Come home. Return to the source.’

  Daniel reared up before Shemyaza, yearning for the touch of his hand. But as he gazed up into his master’s face, Shemyaza began to change. Behind him, as if somehow joined to his spine, an enormous tail of peacock feathers fanned out to frame his body. His face elongated and his body became thinner and taller. The tail feathers became a spectrum of light around him. For a few moments, he resembled a radiant feathered serpent, poised as if to strike, then he had transformed into the Elder who had appeared to Daniel in his dream the night before.

  As before, the Elder did not speak, but the muscles of his mobile face flickered with expressions that conveyed communication. ‘It is time, my son, for you to shed your skin.’

  The Elder bent down and lifted Daniel in his hands. Daniel hung there, letting his ophidian body grow limp. He was not afraid now, but drowsy. His skin itched all over and he yearned to be rid of it. He gave his entire being, with trust, to the care of the Elder. The pain, when it came, seemed like the ultimate betrayal.

  With one sharp fingernail, the Elder clawed into Daniel’s serpent hide. Daniel felt himself split. His skin was not ready to shed at all. He was being torn apart. Helplessly, he wriggled in the Elder’s grasp, his tail lashing the air. He uttered agonised hisses, yearning to scream, to make some human sound. This was the death that Mani had hinted at, and it was terrible. The Elder was skinning him, pulling his bleeding carcass from the black skin. It was pulled over his eyes and his sensitive tongue tasted the scent of blood and raw flesh. He would die now, flayed. The caress of the air was an agony against his exposed flesh.

  Daniel found that even a serpent can weep tears.

  Then he was falling.

  He hit the grass with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs. He realised at once that he was once more in his own body. Rolling onto his back, he looked up and saw the Elder standing over him, an empty snake-skin dangling from his bloodied hands. Daniel ran his hands over his chest, and realised with relief that he still possessed a skin. He tingled all over, as if someone had rubbed him down with gravel. Already the stink of blood was being erased by the perfume of flowers.

  The Elder d
ropped the skin onto the grass without even looking at it, and knelt on one knee beside Daniel, his alien face hanging like a mask before Daniel’s eyes. He slid one giant hand behind Daniel’s neck and raised him from the grass. Daniel wanted to turn away from the inhuman countenance, but was too weak to move. The Elder pulled him against his body and kissed him on the mouth. He did not speak, but his expressive face seemed to say, ‘You are whole, my son. Go forth from this place and meet with your brethren.’

  Daniel closed his eyes and rested against the Elder’s chest, enfolded in his arms. He remembered what it was like to be held. He had missed it so badly.

  Then someone was calling his name, from a long way away. Daniel resisted this summons. He wanted to drowse where he was, but the voice kept on calling, growing louder and louder. It was intrusive; a harsh, human sound.

  The light of the garden faded until Daniel was enveloped in blackness. He could not hold on to the vision. A hand was shaking him. ‘Daniel! Wake!’

  He woke with a start, wholly alert, and sat up abruptly, uttering a cry of shock. Mani squatted beside him, his face full of concern and perhaps fear. Daniel realised he was back in the shrine of Khidir. The vision was over.

  Seemingly satisfied that Daniel had completed the spiritual journey unharmed, Mani nodded and grinned at him. ‘I thought you would never wake. How do you feel now?’ He held out what looked like a bowl of milk, although when Daniel tasted it, he realised it was spiced with liquor and cinnamon.

  ‘Fine,’ Daniel answered. ‘I think.’ He smiled and handed the bowl back to Mani. ‘Whatever was in that smoke has some kick to it!’

  ‘Not just the smoke, Daniel,’ Mani said, and looked around him, ‘but this place.’

  Daniel started to get to his feet and found he was lying on something that rustled beneath him. It was only then that he realised he was naked. Some vision! He wondered if Mani had taken away his clothes while he’d slept. ‘What is this?’ Daniel asked, reaching down to touch the papery, slightly oily, material around him.

  ‘Your skin,’ Mani replied.

  Daniel uttered a horrified sound and jumped away from the spot. He felt sick.

  ‘Isn’t that what happened to you?’ Mani asked in an even voice. ‘You shed your skin?’

  Daniel shook his head in disbelief. ‘Yes, but… that was a vision.’

  Mani folded his arms and fixed Daniel with a steady eye. ‘Not just that. Look at yourself. Raise your hands.’

  Daniel did so and saw that his skin was shining with a weird light, similar to the way in which the Elder had seemed to shine. ‘What’s happened to me?’ He glanced at Mani. ‘It was more than a vision, wasn’t it?’

  Mani nodded. ‘You have begun a change, a leap forward in your evolution. It will take a while to complete, but it is begun.’

  ‘What change?’

  ‘You are Grigori once again, Daniel, as you were in the beginning, so long ago.’

  Daniel got to his feet and held out his arms before him. The light glowed through his skin. ‘This is impossible.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Mani said. ‘The Elders have granted you this gift. You have a place in the destiny of the world, and you need your Grigori form to fulfil it.’ He put his hands on his knees. ‘At one time, a sacred flame burned in this place, and its influence still prevails. You have walked through its memory and it has changed you.’

  ‘This is incredible’ Daniel said, to himself more than to Mani. ‘A vision can’t cause physical effects.’ He turned his hands before him in the air. His skin seemed almost translucent. He could see the delicate tracery of veins pulsing beneath it.

  ‘You must not worry,’ Mani said. ‘From my visions, I have learned that this effect will not last. Go back to your people now. Your master awaits you. He has waited a long time.’

  Daniel stood up. ‘I can’t go naked.’

  Mani laughed. ‘True! Although my adopted people have few taboos about such things. Still, I have a robe for you. Take it.’ He presented Daniel with a bundle of white cloth. ‘I will spare you the unpleasantness of sifting your old clothes from the sloughing.’

  Daniel pulled the robe over his head. His skin felt wet as if he’d actually bathed in the pool. He knew he would never know what Mani had done to him while he’d been unconscious or whether he had been physically responsible for what had happened to his body. Before he left the cave, he turned to Mani. ‘Thank you for all you have done for me. I’d like to ask you one thing.’

  Mani spread his hands before him. ‘Then ask.’

  ‘Where are the Chambers of Light? How do we find the key?’

  Mani laughed. ‘You think I can tell you these things? I am flattered! I am sorry, Daniel, but that knowledge cannot be gained so easily. Also, it is Gadreel’s place to lead you all to the next stage of your journey. I have played my part, small though it was.’

  Daniel reached out and clasped Mani’s hands. ‘It was not small to me. Again, thank you.’

  Mani waved him away. ‘Go now, go! The feast awaits below and the music calls for your feet!’

  Daniel walked down from the cave. He felt serene and tall, as if he could float above the ground. In this way, his ancestors had come down to the world of men and their bewitching women. He could almost feel a cloak of vulture feathers hanging heavily from his shoulders; the wings of an angel. He could smell the antique must of it, and felt the ghosts of scratchy pinions against his flesh.

  He paused before entering the settlement, gazing upon the sparking central fire and the people who danced wildly around it. Their music had conjured him and he had answered their summons. His eyes searched the gathering, until he caught sight of Shem, who stood near the back of the circle of dancers, watching them with a contemplative expression on his face.

  I am equal to you now, Daniel thought, in some ways.

  He was absorbed into the spiralling complexity of the dance. The music became more frantic, the dancing more riotous. Skirts and scarves spun out, metallic threads catching the fire-light. It was almost as if the Yarasadi had been expecting Daniel to come, dressed in his angel robe, or else perhaps they thought he was someone else, a vision of one of their avatars invoked by the dance.

  As he danced, Daniel was acutely aware of Shem’s motionless presence nearby. Was he aware of what had happened to his vizier? For a brief moment, Daniel met Shemyaza’s eyes. Shem nodded slightly, a secret smile upon his face. Then, the chain of dancers broke up and scattered into a whirling saltation of individual human motes, hiding Shem from Daniel’s view. Daniel spread out his arms, and in the centre of the gathering, danced the dance of the vulture kings, led by the wail of the tambura, the charm of the zurna. Though most of the dancers around him could barely speak a word of English, Daniel felt a strong communion with them, beyond words. He was kin to them now, aware that within each of them, the secret of their heritage lay like a protected seed in winter darkness, awaiting the light and warmth of spring. They had waited so long.

  He danced perhaps for hours, as the stars arced overhead, and the fire-smoke rose up in writhing coils. He did not tire. Dimly, he was aware of people moving around him; talking, eating. Then he was dancing alone and the tribe were sitting around him in a circle. Women lolled against their men, fanning themselves with plucked leafy twigs. Their eyes were dark, yet bright with starlight. Eventually, Daniel fell into a swoon. There was silence now, but for the crackling of the dying fire. Between the eastern mountains, the first pale rays of dawn cast an ephemeral road of light down from heaven. Daniel lay on his back, breathing deeply. He saw Shemyaza standing over him, his hair catching the pale morning light. ‘Daniel, can you stand?’

  Daniel barely had the energy to speak. He shook his head slowly from side to side.

  Shem knelt down and lifted him in his arms. Daniel’s head hung backwards; he saw faces upside-down that watched him as Shem carried him to their temporary home. Then, the entrance flaps to the tent were closed behind them and Shem laid him down on the musky
furs. There was little light. Whatever had made Daniel’s flesh shine had faded away. His feet and calves were aching severely.

  ‘How did it happen?’ Shem asked, then shook his head. ‘No, that is your business.’ He took Daniel’s hands in his own. ‘This is the greatest gift to me. You know how I have mourned the fact you were born as human in this life.’

  ‘Shem,’ Daniel murmured. ‘How do you know I am Grigori now?’

  Shem knelt beside him, his face almost invisible in the gloom. ‘I saw you walk down into the valley, Daniel, and your face was shining. Maybe only I saw it, but for a moment, I seemed to be looking at myself — not as I am now, but when I first went down to the lowlands and took Ishtahar as my lover. It shocked me, but it seemed so right.’

  ‘There is a sacred cave,’ Daniel said. ‘It happened there.’

  Shem stroked his hair. ‘I believed that you were shutting me out of your life, but perhaps I am as guilty as you of preferring isolation. Our path is hard, Daniel. We should not choose to walk it alone. You are my light.’

  Daniel held out his arms and pulled Shem into his embrace. Shem’s voice was muffled against his neck. ‘When I saw you there, with a shining countenance, it seemed to me as if something shattered within my mind.’ He pulled away from Daniel’s arms and looked into his eyes. ‘I understand my purpose now, and I understand what love really is.’

  They lay down together in the furs, and Salamiel, for the next few hours, elected to keep his distance from the tent.

  Chapter Twelve