by YatesNZ, Jen
Both faces lit up. Eight year old Ella squealed then they left the table and stormed up the stairs. Georgina watched with an indulgent smile and the familiar ‘happy pain’ around her heart. These children created of her love for Torr would grow into the characters that had been denied them in Atlantis. Solly, at eleven, would do as she’d suggested, because he’d already worked out that if he breezed through the necessaries he’d have more time with his dad. Ella would go straight to Torr, snuggle in beside him and wheedle and cajole until he told her all about his trip and produced the gifts she knew would be hidden in the bottom of his bag, which was still unpacked on the floor at the foot of the bed.
The pain in her heart became more poignant on those frequent occasions, as now, when a shadow figure, a lad with golden hair and emerald eyes, danced between and around them as if he would play, or trip them up. Sometimes either Solly or Ella would dance aside with gurgles of happy laughter, for they were often aware of his presence also. But today, focused as they were on getting to their father, the spirit of Ugo had to be content with following in their wake.
When Georgina and Taur sat in meditation and connected with the spirit of this only one of their three Atlantean children not to incarnate into their twenty-first century family, he would regard them with a loving and enigmatic smile and the gentle words, ‘It is well. I truly did have to follow a different path.’
It was thirteen years since Georgina had first laid eyes on Torr Montgomery; thirteen busy years in which she’d become a doting mother and a successful author. She’d set out to record the story of their Atlantean lifetime for their family and when he’d read it Torr had suggested she submit it for publication. No one had been more surprised than Georgina when ‘Born of the DragonBloods’ was accepted and published in 2004.
Ella came down the stairs yelling at her brother to hurry up or they’d be late.
‘Ella, settle down,’ Georgina said automatically as she placed the last of the plates in the dishwasher.
‘Dad’s got presents for us but we’re not allowed them till tonight!’ The mixture of excitement and disappointment in the child’s elfin face with its cap of dancing black curls, was comical.
Georgina gave her daughter a hug and fluffed her hair.
‘Something to look forward to, huh?—Right let’s go,’ she added as Solly bounded down the stairs with little thought for his neck should he slip.
Georgina didn’t envy their teachers today. Torr had been at a mining convention in the States for a week and had then gone on to a consulting job in Mexico for a further two weeks. The children had missed him dreadfully.
‘Dreadfully’ nowhere near described how she’d missed him.
‘I can’t find my homework!’ Ella’s wail cut through her thoughts.
‘You’re always losing your stuff,’ Solly complained, ‘and you haven’t even looked for it. It’s on the bench where you left it last night.’
Ella poked out her tongue.
‘Thank you, Solly,’ Georgina nudged the child.
Grudgingly Ella echoed her mother then grabbed up her book. Georgina hurried them out to the car. She loved her children with a fierceness bordering on obsession—but right now she just wanted to drop them at school and get back home to spend the day with Torr. It had been three weeks and he’d been so exhausted last night he’d been able to do no more than pull her fiercely into his arms, mutter that one day he’d really have to try apportating, before falling asleep with a very contented sigh.
When she got back he was in the pyramid pit they’d built off the side of the breakfast room, an exact replica of the one Case had designed for Georgina in her home in New Zealand. His hair was in need of a cut, its silky black curls with the sexy silver wings rumpled and begging for her fingers. Bare feet propped on the banquette, a short silk bath robe was belted at his waist and she knew there’d be nothing beneath it. An empty coffee mug rested on the back of the seat near his hand.
It was so good to see him there. So—right.
Dropping the keys on the table, she stepped into the pyramid, pausing for a second as she always did, to adjust to the subtle change in energy. Torr watched her from deceptively sleepy eyes, his lips curled in the special welcoming smile he kept for her alone.
She slid onto the seat beside him and their arms enclosed one another as naturally as water flowing around rock.
‘God, I’ve missed you, woman,’ he growled into her hair. His fingers followed his breath and in seconds he’d removed the barrette she’d hurriedly confined it with.
‘You’ve got clothes on!’ he complained as he began rootling about for the hem of her skivvy.
‘Couldn’t very well take the kids to school without them,’ Georgina mumbled as she pulled the skivvy over her head. His nimble fingers had released her bra before she’d got her head free.
‘You’ve become very slick at that, Mr. Montgomery!’
‘That’s ‘cos my woman is always damned impatient so I’ve had to hone my skills accordingly!’
His eyes, smoldering and laughing at the same time, were her undoing. As always.
Georgina scrambled unceremoniously out of her jeans. Her hands faltered at the waist of her panties, suddenly aware of the uncurtained windows of the pyramid. An avenue of elms and a small coppice was all that separated the Dower House from Penreath Castle where Torr’s brother lived with his wife.
‘We can’t. Not here! What if Pel or Carla came over?’
The smolder in Torr’s eyes darkened.
‘They wouldn’t dare. Besides, no one can see us down here,’ he laughed, clasping her in his arms and tumbling them both onto the sheepskin rug that filled the floor space inside the seats. The belt of his robe came undone and in seconds he’d disposed of Georgina’s panties. Rolling onto his back he drew her up onto his chest and Georgina couldn’t help thinking that nothing had changed in countless millennia. Only a disaster of the life-threatening kind could distract him when he wanted her—and after twelve years of marriage that knowledge was a deep joy in her heart.
‘It’s damned good to be home,’ he rasped, drawing her head down until their mouths fused with a power that never faded. ‘You know,’ he said after a minute, ‘we always seem to actually make love some place else when I take you here in the pyramid. Do you think we can choose where?’
Georgina felt delight fizz through her at the thought.
‘I’ve always wondered what it would be like to make love in the sarcophagus in the Great Pyramid. Could we try that?’
‘So long as you can guarantee we won’t actually materialize there. Might give a tourist a heart attack! Not to mention it could be embarrassing!’
Their eyes met in shared laughter, a treasure beyond price. Torr’s grip on her buttocks tightened and he groaned.
‘Just ride me, woman! Ride me to Khemu and back!’
Georgina leant forward and cupped his face in her hands.
‘I’d love to torture you and make you wait—and beg,’ she murmured, dropping teasing kisses onto his eyelids, nose, and the corners of his mouth. ‘But I’d only be torturing myself, so I guess you’re in luck today!’
‘You bet I am!’ he growled. Lifting her hips he brought her down on his throbbing erection.
It was sometime later that Torr complained of their cramped situation and his hunger.
‘Neither of which even entered your mind half an hour ago,’ Georgina teased.
‘Nor yours, my beautiful wife,’ he taunted straight back. ‘But it’s definitely time you became the dutiful wife and saw to your husband’s needs!’
‘I thought I just had,’ Georgina muttered, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Swatting her backside he pushed her up and together they scrambled upright, Georgina pulling on her top and knickers and Torr re-tying the belt of his robe.
‘What’s for brekky?’
‘Bacon and eggs?’
‘And waffles and golden syrup?’
‘Waffles and golde
n syrup!’
‘Mmm. We’re celebrating, I believe. We’ll have a bottle of champers as well.’
‘Champers for breakfast!’ Georgina laughed incredulously.
‘I’m serious. It’s not every day you get invited to the premiere of your wife’s movie!’
Suddenly she was in his arms and he was swinging her round and round and dancing her through the house singing, ‘Georgina Montgomery, author of the best-selling ‘Born of the DragonBloods’, which has been made into a block-busting movie! What would the world think if they knew it was a true story?’
Georgina shuddered and rolled her eyes.
‘There are very few people who would believe such a thing and I’d only be held up to ridicule if I claimed it. It’s not the point anyway.’
Torr let her feet touch the floor, held her close and smoothed her hair back from her face.
‘And what is?’ he asked quietly.
Sucking in air and chewing on her lip, Georgina twined her fingers in the soft curls on his chest.
‘Today legend says Atlantis was destroyed because her people had become lustful and greedy. I guess we both know that’s pretty much how it was. Temple ritual had lost its mysticism and true spiritual meaning and had simply become a showcase for the great DragonBlood studs. Beauty of form and figure and sexual virility were what defined a man, empowered him to hold high office, to rule. And the abuse of crystal power—’
Gina stopped speaking, strong emotion rising with the memories as it always did.
‘The abuse of crystal power equates almost exactly with the development of atomic power in our time. Fundamentally nothing has changed. The technology, religions and fashions are different but human nature has not progressed at all. It’s as if the world has come full circle and we’ve arrived back at that moment in time of—of—’
‘Critical mass,’ Georgina finished. ‘We’ve arrived back at the point in time when the Universal Energies can no longer sustain the old way and by some cataclysmic event will catapult mankind into a new understanding. A new Energy.’
‘Don’t you think that this time round there is enough awareness, enough enlightenment that the fundamental changes will take place on an energetic rather than a physical level? It’s what many are prophesying now.’
Georgina raised her eyes to Torr’s and their gazes meshed for a long moment, in total awareness of one another.
‘The only thing I’m really sure of is that love was the key in that lifetime and it still is. Love is the key to the Universe and when Mankind gets that, Mankind will finally have—evolved, I guess. And if ‘Born of the DragonBloods’ reminds only a few people of that then it’s all been worthwhile. It all had a purpose.’
‘Hmm,’ Torr breathed, leaning forward until their lips touched, whisper-soft as in a blessing. ‘Love is the key that unlocked our destiny.’
Back in the kitchen he finally brought them to a standstill and hugged her close, burying his face in her hair.
‘Have I told you how proud I am of you? God, Gina, I could never have imagined any of this that day I stepped off the plane with Fran back in ’98. I wonder what we would have done if we’d been able to foresee the future and choose to live it—or not?’
‘That’s easy,’ Georgina declared. Leaning back in his arms she looked deep into his eyes and smiled. ‘The old Georgina would have dropped her head and run—and she’d still be running. I’m so glad we had no choice.’
‘Me too,’ he whispered. ‘Me too.’
Working side by side, Torr cooked the bacon and eggs while Georgina made waffles and kept him talking of his trip and all that he’d seen, learnt and achieved. It wasn’t until they were sitting in front of empty plates, sipping the last of their wine that Torr brought the conversation back to the movie premiere.
‘I take it Ellen, Merryn, Case and the kids are coming over for the premiere?’ Torr said. ‘What about Fran and Gould?’
‘They’re coming!’ Georgina beamed.
‘They’re not!’ he answered incredulously.
The Barrington’s rarely left the beautiful islet they’d bought in the Bay of Islands north of Auckland. They now collaborated to write block-busting romantic adventures that were eagerly awaited by a huge worldwide readership, and deliberately fed their myth and mystique by being reclusive.
Fran had an extensive array of beautiful wigs and Gould’s plastic surgery had given him a face that was no longer horrifying to look at, but his voice would never be more than a harsh rasp in his throat. Crowds and publicity were anathema to him.
‘They are,’ Georgina averred. ‘Fran said she wouldn’t miss it for the world and ‘since it would never have been written if it hadn’t been for her and Gould going off to the Bahamas together’, she figures they should be there. She will love the publicity and Gould will hate it. But I guess, even after all this time, he’s still somewhat motivated by guilt. I’m glad he’s coming but I wish he’d get over it! We are—all four of us—happier as we are.’
Torr observed her for a moment from beneath frowning brows, taut mouth slowly relaxing into a smile. Then he tossed back the last of his wine and rose to his feet.
‘That’s fantastic,’ he declared, ‘now drink up, woman! We’ve got three weeks’ worth of loving to make up before the little warriors return home in—six hours, if we’re lucky! I’ve a yen to get started right away.’
‘I thought we already had,’ Georgina smiled, as she downed the last drops of her wine.
‘That was just the appetizer, my beautiful Gina,’ he murmured, coming round the table, and sweeping her up into his arms—again.
‘Where shall it be? In the grotto at the bottom of the lawn? In the King’s stadrag on the sacks of gold—I can only suggest the nearest equivalent to that is my office desk where I earn much of my money. Or in the royal apartments on the great royal bed?’
Laughing a challenge up at him, Georgina pressed her fist to his square, cleft chin and demanded, ‘All three will be lovely, thank you!’
Their shared laughter surrounded them as he kicked the back door open and carried her down the path to the grotto that sheltered a steaming spa.
‘Some things,’ Torr declared softly, ‘are more important than horses or war—or mining and movies. I have—and will—love you, my Gina, through all eternity.’
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I started writing the ancient part of Crystal Warrior in 1997. When it was finally completed I gave it to a friend to read. She was so traumatized by the devastating end of Atlantis that I decided I had to find a way to mitigate that and create for the characters a happy outcome.
So Crystal Warrior became a ‘Past Life Travel’.
The writing of this story and its sequel, Crystal Dancer, has been a rite of passage for myself, a pilgrimage I am glad not to have missed. I hope you have enjoyed Gyn’a and Taur’s journey of love ‘through all eternity’ and if you want to know Ugo’s story, check out Crystal Dancer, also available on Amazon.
www.amazon.com/Jen-YatesNZ/e/B009MSEA7U
Please consider leaving a review on Amazon.
If you’d like to know more about the author, Jen YatesNZ you can visit the web page: www.jenyatesnz.com
Dictionary of Atlantean Words
Adonai: woman performing as Goddess in sacred ritual
agricola: oak wood
alara: love, beloved
apportate/apportation: to disappear from one location and reappear at another; the means by which highly evolved Temple Initiates could travel
arabo: bastard/bastards
arabo lins: poor bastard
Archinus: supreme high priestess (pl. Archini)
Asar: God of the Sky (Osiris)
azanon: bride (pl. azanoni)
bargi: foot soldiers
Boiche: famous Atlantean wood carver
braa: deeply sadistic bastard
braba: coward
breac: coin
breara: bloody (swear word)
breskin
: paper, made from sepia leaves (pl. breskina)
cabotin: carrot
cadogonad: luxury yacht
cedaban: monster
ciaro: lecher
cili: clairvoyant (pl. cilii)
clagren: pillow (pl. clagrenon)
cloaba!: damnation!
clod: derogatory term for a male who isn’t blatantly virile
corba: a sleep inducing drug
Cronos: ancient God, father of Zeus.
delilah: prostitute
d'naa: no
Doaara: Free Love society
doabra: braggart
doraba qaba: bloody fiend!
dundod: ogre, ogress
egon: rebellion
ennead: priest/priestess who has achieved the highest level in the study of the Mysteries, denoted by nine knots in a gold belt
etado: condition of bulging, cretinous eyes; effect of fuaba addiction
fiadi: sandals
finwod: traitor (pl. finwodi)
flabria: laws
fladred: God-like (as in aroused ready to perform in ritual)
floak: skim stones over water
fofrac: put down, douse.
fuaba: addictive aphrodisiacal drug; duckweed
gerlain: wardrobe
gladven: handspan (pl. gladvenon)
glodad: rest home for old and infirm ladies
huoda: wine laced with aphrodisiac. Nuptial Nectar.
Hyades: Hell
Ibn Ist del Alomdino, en cala suevon ara mei: Sacred Isis of the True heart, hold us in your care
ilmenite: manufactured stone giving off high light and energy
ilobaron: cushions
Ist: Goddess of the Earth (Isis)
kanzuc: small naval command vessel
kapi: animal
Khemu: Egypt
kirt: item of male attire like a kilt
kondemon: penis
kurn: fuck
latreia: song and dance of praise
loaker: three-masted ship
lollygown: wimp, pansy
londonum: laudunum
loswoden: connoisseur
madrona: matron, senior female