Illuminate

by Tracy Clark

  Finn’s eyes narrowed curiously at Edmund before recognition widened them. “You’re the guy from the back of all those books.”

  Edmund grinned. “I’m glad as hell you just showed up, but why are you here?”

  “Only ever be one answer to that question, mate,” Finn answered.

  “We all saw that video you sent. It’s why everyone is staring at you so fearfully right now. I’m just going to assume the guy you killed needed killing. I think it was a smart move and, truly, the only way I can show the world what the Arrazi are doing. With Cora’s permission, I’m doing a documentary on everything.” Edmund raked his hands through his wild hair. “There’s light and dark in everyone, man. Even you. I really believe that. You wouldn’t be here to help if that weren’t true.”

  Finn shrugged. “Thanks.”

  Will and two others set about dragging the Arrazi outside as Dun, Finn, and I ran to Finn’s rental car. Edmund yelled for us to wait for him and leaped in at the last minute with his camera. “You look at me like I’m annoying you now,” he said defensively, “but I got everything that happened in that room tonight on film. If we make it out of this alive, it will be seriously incriminating for the cardinal.”

  One shot. One shot. Two men and one shot. One girl. My knees bounced as I directed Finn toward the cave. I’d left the Arrazi’s gun with Will so he could defend the group should more Arrazi arrive. I was in the unbelievable position of being glad that Finn was with us. He was a deadly ally, though less so against another Arrazi. That little dog, Theodore, was with Cora and the cardinal.

  “This might be a goose chase, man,” Dun said, rubbing his brow with a thumb and forefinger. “Anyone could have shot off a round up in these hills. What if she’s back at the village? We could be driving away from her.”

  Finn growled in frustration and sped up.

  “There,” I pointed as we came upon the spot with the tartan flapping from the branch. “Behind that car,” I said with a sinking feeling. Finn got out and pulled three books from a carry-on bag in the trunk. “Why are you bringing that? This hardly seems like the time—” He shot me a shut-the-hell-up look. It had to be the book he’d mentioned on the video, the thing he’d told Cora he was bringing for her to touch. But why was it so urgent? We had to save her before she could use her power to access its memories.

  Trying to be as quiet as possible, I led the group up the shadowy, uneven path. To my ears, we were the four horsemen of the apocalypse galloping up the hill. We dared not use a light, so we stumbled along until the mound of the cave came into view, reminding me of the mounds of Newgrange. A faint light moved around inside the cave like someone was using a phone or a very small flashlight or lighter. We snuck closer to the opening, and I saw the dark outline of a torso in the dirt. Someone small. All breath left my body as I rushed forward. Finn was also scrabbling next to me toward the motionless form. My phone buzzed in my pocket and everyone stopped moving, nearly stopped breathing, hoping whoever was inside hadn’t heard it, or us.

  Finn’s eyes hadn’t left the body on the ground, but he became very still and seemed to be reaching out with his energy to feel something from the body. He shook his head no, but I didn’t understand if it was an indication that it was impossible for him to feel for a life that was already gone or if he was trying to say it wasn’t Cora. I took a tentative step closer to the cave, my eyes shifting from the light inside to the body. A cloud drifted off the moon, shining just enough light to see that the face was not Cora’s.

  The Arrazi, Theodore, was dead. Pride roared through me. This had to be Cora’s doing.

  I tore my gaze away to quickly read the text. It was from Ehsan, whom we’d positioned as a lookout at the market fifty miles down the west end of the road.

  Arrazi are coming!

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Cora

  Stabbing pain shot through my ears after I fired the gun in the cave.

  Shaking, I moved to stand but never took the barrel off Cardinal Báthory. Blue-yellow light shone up on his face. He had pulled out a phone to light the cave, but it was my phone, and the astonishment on his face wasn’t for his fallen Arrazi pet. It was for something on the screen. He actually seemed unconcerned that a gun was pointing at him.

  “What is this?” he asked, flashing the picture of the painting at me.

  “That’s what your precious key was hiding.”

  “This means nothing,” he said. “It’s simply an artist’s interpretation of Jesus and the Blessed Mother. Proves nothing to a world who knows nothing of you,” though his quaking voice belied his fear that it did mean something. A whole hell of a lot.

  “Oh, they know of me,” I reminded him. “I’m big news, or haven’t you heard? You and I both know it means something, which would explain why you look like you’re gonna piss yourself. Imagine for a sec, the whole world seeing that painting, and then the whole world seeing the Arrazi in front of the Kirlian wall on the video. Imagine showing the world a Scintilla in front of that wall. Proof. Your secret’s out.” I watched what little color he had drain from his face until blue smudges under his eyes were the most remarkable feature on his face. “What’s the matter, Cardinal? Suddenly afraid your place in heaven isn’t so secure?”

  His chin thrust up pompously. “I am bound as prefect by oath of my office. I am bound by the duties entrusted to me from a long line of dedicated guardians in the Society. I am bound by the word of God.” The way he slammed his fist on his palm with that last word reminded me of a little evil bully who once terrorized entire nations with his emphatic speeches. He was in the business of genocide, too.

  “Do me a favor, count the number of races and creeds and people of diversity your office has persecuted. Can you do it on one hand? Your oath is to homogenize the entire world, and I don’t believe God would create a world so varied so that one group could condemn His creations to death. You’re killing Scintilla, and there is no godly reason to do so.” My hand steadied on the gun. “But I’m just an unremarkable teenage girl, right? What do I know?”

  A tumble of feet and bodies entered the cave, startling us both. I scrambled backward until my body hit the back wall, pointing it at the newcomers. The cardinal spun to shine the light on the intruders, and every cell in my body sighed with surprise, then relief.

  Finn and Giovanni both looked at me warily. If his camera didn’t hide Edmund’s eyes, I’m sure I’d see the same dubitable expression from him. “Why are you all looking at me like I’m a toddler with a gun? You saw the doormat previously known as Theodore, didn’t you?”

  “Put the gun down, luv,” Finn said. “You’re shaking like a leaf. It’s okay now.”

  “You don’t need to kill him for me. I can defend myself. I can defend the Scintilla.” I didn’t know where the petulance was coming from, but now that he so unhelpfully mentioned it, I became aware of my violent shivering. I took a breath and calmed my body with resolve. I was ready to eliminate this bully in an Italian suit. The top of the pyramid needed cutting off.

  “You’re about to get your chance,” Giovanni said. “Ehsan says the Arrazi are on their way.”

  “I worried about that,” Finn said. “It’s sooner than I thought, but there were two on the plane with me, and Saoirse Lennon confirmed—”

  The cardinal laughed, interrupting Finn. He opened his mouth to speak, and I lunged forward with the very real urge to stuff his open mouth with black steel. Both Finn and Giovanni held their arms in front of me, blocking me from getting too close. “What the hell?” I yelled, frustrated. “I’m the one with the gun! He’s just…just…human…”

  Human. That one word deflated me. I wanted to kill this ignorant human bastard and had spat the word like it was a lesser thing. What did that make me?

  “Giovanni, will you take the gun and keep it trained on this man for a few minutes?” Finn asked. “Cora, I have something I need you to see, and I don’t think it can wait. It might answer every question our two races have,
and if there’s a way to stop this, I want to know. If the Arrazi are coming, our time is up.”

  “What about Cardinal Báthory?” I asked. “He’s the one Ultana took orders from. He’s the one controlling the Arrazi and using them to kill innocent people.”

  Finn looked Cardinal Báthory up and down. “I think he deserves to die in the same manner he’s condemned so many to death. Your soul won’t belong to God,” Finn said, stepping close to the cardinal and staring hard into his eyes. “Your filthy soul will belong to me.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Cora

  Edmund’s camera lit the cave like he’d invited in the sun. I blinked against the glare. Reluctantly, I gave Giovanni the handgun, which he pointed at the cardinal while muttering something to him in Italian that made the cardinal’s eyes widen.

  Finn held out three books. I recognized one immediately that made my heart soar—my mother’s journal. “The other is your mother’s as well. It’s the big one I need you to open right now. It’s the missing cover to the Book of Kells,” he said, and the cardinal took tiny steps forward, eyes hungry.

  “You,” he gasped at Finn. “You were supposed to be dealt with.”

  Giovanni put a stop to that with a kick to the cardinal’s stomach, sending him staggering backward.

  I lifted the cover and found a jeweled book cover hidden within the cutout pages of the larger book. Back when Giovanni and I had been looking for my mother’s journal at Trinity College, I remember seeing signs for the exhibit for the Book of Kells: Turning Darkness to Light. We didn’t view the exhibit then, and I knew little else of the famous book. Through my mother’s memory of those words, I’d known I was in the right place. How odd that she would hide her journal in the place that housed what might be the missing piece of our history. Did she have any idea?

  The jewels reflected the light like colorful, otherworldly eyes. Every shade was represented in the gems, every basic tint of a human’s aura. Astonishingly, the gold cover was emblazoned with the triple spiral. Without hesitation, I pressed my hand to it.

  I flew backward in time, a vortex so strong that my stomach lurched. I might have screamed, or thought to scream. I was winded and I was the wind. Less a vision than a transportation back through memory and time to a further truth. I was thrust through centuries, beyond the creation of the cover, beyond the birth of countries and many religions and even the birth of Christ, until I came to a violent, tumbling stop. Instantly, I recognized where I stood.

  Brú na Bóinne.

  I was in the tomb at Newgrange, watching a person, neither man nor woman, but an epicene being of pure light, walk with outstretched hands toward the stone carving.

  The triple spiral.

  In the flickering torchlight the person placed both hands on the stone. Swirling white energy flowed from the being’s hands into the rock, illuminating the labyrinthine spirals with liquid light. White light. Pure, luminous, beautiful. The white light didn’t scare me.

  The being turned and looked in my direction, maybe at me, or through me, like looking at a memory. I gasped in recognition. Though it wasn’t something I recognized in the face—it was in the spirit—I realized that within this one being were two halves of a whole. Finn and I were in this body of light. At some point in history, we were one.

  We were wholemates.

  Alive and together in the most significant way two people can be. I cried out for the inexplicable beauty of it. This made no sense. The being looked at the stone and seemingly back to me with an expression like it wanted me to understand something vital now stored in the rock. But I’d already tried that. The truth had been worn away.

  Pain tore through me as I witnessed their body suddenly split from the center—a great rending of the light being from one whole into two. I felt the searing rip of the soul in my cells. Thousands of voices cried out in agony so that I wanted to cover my ears.

  It was the worst tragedy to witness. It was a separation more destructive than injury, more painful than missing a loved one.

  More damaging than death.

  Now, two irrevocably altered beings stood before me. Un-whole. One, a luminous silver, the other, pure white. They looked sadly at each other, turned to walk away, and somehow I knew that they would have many reincarnations, in different bodies, in different forms of being, and that spiritually they’d replay this split over many lifetimes. That they had done so. We had done so, would live and die over and over again, trying to find ways to “turn the darkness to light.”

  Their light faded into pinpricks, like fading stars, until I could no longer see them. “Wait!” I ran forward, tears blurring my eyes, but they were gone. I’d lost them again.

  Wait…

  Tingling energy ruffled outward from the stone next to me, caressing my aura, snagging my attention. Light still clung to its arched crevices and wafted from it like smoke from a lightning strike. The being had infused the object with thought and memory, leaving information that only I could retrieve. I knew it as my hand hovered over the spirals. I could unlock the secret.

  Of course! Everything had led to this moment. I felt, knew how time coiled and wound, bringing souls within reach again and again until they fulfilled their soul’s task. This moment was my task.

  Not something without but something within. It wasn’t a literal key or what it unlocked that would tell the absolute truth. I could know the truth with a touch. I could read the history.

  I was the Light Key.

  I pressed my hands against the stone and a voice rang out, so lovely and so full of truth—like the tolling of a bell, rain on trees, the howl of wind—that the sound of it choked me with tears. The voice sounded around me and within me, became part of me.

  We’ve forgotten our wholeness in the wilderness of Earth.

  In this land of duality, one polarity cannot exist without its relative opposite. We have been the baby’s first cry and the old man’s last breath. Good and evil, pain and pleasure, fear and contentment, binding and loosing, trust and skepticism, the depths of despair and heights of ecstasy. We’ve known war and peace, and we’ve experienced hate and love.

  Over time, the balance tipped toward the great, hungry darkness.

  We came to heal, to demonstrate balance so that the spirits of Earth could rise in vibration, consciousness, and light. Our greatest task was our greatest failing. We were corrupted. Split. We’ve come to believe in our separateness and have forgotten our wholeness just as mankind has forgotten.

  Join. That is your fate.

  Fail again and you fail this world and all of its inhabitants.

  Another image flew to my mind of two beings, facing each other—light coming from the heart center of one, willfully joining with the energy from the other. The meeting of their auras was cataclysmic beauty. Their energy expanded from two spirals of light, which fused together into a third spiral, a third energy, and exploded in one loving mass of light as incandescent as the sun.

  I tore from the ecstatic vision, crying and aching, fearing the unknown, yet…knowing.

  Everyone was silent. My ears rang with the quiet astonishment in the air. It was my vision; how could they look so moved? “What?”

  “It was like a trance or something. You channeled a voice,” Edmund said. He stood behind his camera and swiped his cheek on his forearm. “It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I sat back on one of the ammunition boxes and hugged my knees. I knew what had to be done. I saw it. It was such an impossible reality that I doubted it even as I’d seen and felt the overwhelming beauty and truth of it. Also, the end of life as I understood it.

  “What did it mean?” Edmund asked. “I mean, we all heard it, but—”

  “The Scintilla and the Arrazi were never supposed to be enemies. We—we were once one. We are supposed to be one.”

  Giovanni blew out a thin breath.

  “Cora, what do you mean?” Finn asked, his voice soft, his eyes alight with an optimis
m I didn’t feel. He may have heard what I heard, but he didn’t see what I saw.

  “Joining. I think—it might be hard to explain—I think I’m supposed to give freely of myself to an Arrazi.”

  It had to mean my death. Maybe our death. I didn’t know. All I saw was light.

  “It must be equal—consensual—done with openness, trust. Done in devotion to a higher purpose. As you reach, I give. We meet in the middle. All I can say is that it was terrifyingly beautiful.” Tears welled in my eyes again. I teetered near hysterics. I felt like I’d just witnessed my own cataclysmic metamorphosis. There was peace in knowing the truth, but it was a big chasm to jump from knowing to doing.

  “You want to know why I believe this could be true?” Finn asked. He had everyone’s attention. “Think back, Cora. You gave to me twice. Once, when I didn’t realize you were doing it, and once to save my life. It was your choice. Your will. Done with…” His voice softened and he pierced me with his honeyed eyes. “…with love.”

  I sat with those words and realized the truth of them.

  “It didn’t hurt you or make you weak.”

  Remembering those moments with him, seeing them in this new light was a different kind of magic. He was right. It hadn’t hurt me to give to an Arrazi. It hadn’t hurt me to give to Giovanni when I brought him from the edge of death. It was bliss to give to those children.

  Pain was in the taking. Pain was when it was against my will.

  “The Arrazi and Scintilla are never to join!” the cardinal shouted. That one outburst, so very telling.

  “It’s what you don’t want to happen,” I said to him. “Right? Set us up as enemies on the opposite sides of your chessboard? Fight to the death so that the vision could never come true? But this isn’t a game!”

  The cardinal shrunk back.

  “Coniunctio,” Finn said in an awestruck voice. “I saw a tarot card—”

  Giovanni rolled his head forward before looking up in exasperation at Finn. “Are you kidding me? Tarot cards? This conversation is making me angry.”